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toska-writes · 2 months

Note

Clone commandos request if possible. 😁 Could you do delta squad. where on a mission they get captured along with the Padawan, and get protective when they try to separate them or interrogate them.

So i thought about writing a fic based on todays bad batch episode (but I need to get some of the requests done- if you wanna request some Wolffe *wink wink* that’s ok)

“Got your back”

Summary: a mission goes south with the delta squad but they have your back

Paring: The delta Squad/ republic commandos x padawan!reader (PLATONIC OFC)

Warning: slight mentions of injury and imprisonment nothing too bad… the most scary- not proofread

Word count: 1688

Notes: Delta Squad fics are not my “most popular” but ones I always do so much for and I don’t know why

Also I swear to god someone asked to join the Taglist but I can’t remember nor find it so let me know!

"Can you focus for one second Scorch? EVER?" Fixed screamed through the comms, you could see his tense movements from a mile away as the squad ducked once again behind a wall.

Boss could only nod this head, he quickly spun around from where you, Sev and him were hiding to shoot an incoming droid.

"Sorry Scorch I can't defend you this time it's not looking good." You spoke between gasp of your own breath, the adrenaline from the long hours fighting wearing on you and the whole group.

Sev leaned heavily on Fixer from where you could see him, though Scorch as of now was doing a good job covering them.

"Boss," You yelled over the hiss of a smoke bomb going off- the contents of which were going in your eyes and making you cough. "I'm all out of ideas here."

The comando spared you a glance for a second, you feared what his face would have looked like if his helmet was discarded.

Boss looked down at the padawan for a moment. A thin cut ran along their cheek way too close to their eye for Boss’s comfort. He watched their head whip around looking through the fog desperately before a huge bang went off.

After a moment of slight ringing Boss felt the bump of another person against his side. The padawan looked around frantically for the force of the bomb before looking up to the comando.

In a more solemn voice they asked. “Boss what are we gonna do?”

Boss thought about their options then. Backed into the corner of what should have been an abandoned outpost, on of their men injured and the rest ready to collapse from exhaustion. He as a leader thought he was better than this but Boss felt as if he walked his squad right into this trap.

“The missions easy enough for us.” Boss had said only hours before. A knot sat in his stomach but the team needed an easy mission, a break from their last fiasco with the bugs.

He’s never been more wrong in his life.

While he was lost in thought, Boss nearly missed Scorch sliding up next to their leader, his panicked voice tried to fill Boss’s ears.

For a moment the other comando didn’t realize the trooper in yellow was talking until Scorch made a shhh gesture with his hand.

That’s when you noticed it too, the complete lack of noise. No more clanker chatter or blaster bullets from each side. Just the low hiss of the fog that didn’t seem to die down.

You opened your mouth to say something before the unmistakable scraping of metals filled your ears.

“Rollies! get down!” Scorch shouted pulling you and Boss to the floor with him. About 5 Droidekas emerged from the smoke…. Lucky you guys.

“Scorch handle them.” Boss yelled using his hands to signal something at Fixer and Sev at the speed of light. His gruff tone scratched your ears but you all seemed pretty fed up at the situation.

Blaster bullets were blocked by your lightsaber left and right until the next words made your heart drop all together. “Out of hand grenades sir.” Scorch ripped his blaster out now but the shields were too strong on the droids.

“Down the hall!” Fixer yelled as both He and Sev passed the 3 of you, a way out hopefully planned.

You felt them before you saw them, you tried skidding to a stop before turning into the next hall as a hand shot out to grab Boss.

“Shit.” Was the only thing you could say, before they could question what you meant a group of comando droids emerged with guns drawn.

“You’ve got to be joking me.” Sev rasped out, his arm shook while he tried to lift his blaster up and fire. The tiredness leaked off of him though you were sure it did for everyone.

A ring of blue light hit the wall behind you. It didn’t make sense though, comando droids weren’t the type to show mercy.

Your lightsaber flashed along the darkened walls trying to keep the nimble droids away, why couldn’t the separatists just send the normal clankers.

Once again the hall was engulfed in a think smoke. You heard more blasters going off but you feared you were getting more and more disoriented. After a moment you heard a sickening thunk next to you and you assumed the worst.

In the blink of an eye you felt the blast hit its mark and half your body go limp. Unlike the bulking clones you were with it only took about 2 hits before you were out.

•✩•

Boss was the first one to awaken. His head bobbed around and his eyes fluttered open. Boss reached his hand up only to finally realize that his armor was gone.

He laid there for a moment, confusion laced his face. What had happened to him? To them….

In a split second Boss shot up to a sitting position , which his head greatly protested, and looked for the rest of his squad.

Relief was one of the best things in the galaxy in this moment. In the dim light of the ray shield keeping them in Boss could count the 3 other comandos and the form of their padawan knocked out next to Scorch.

Sev still looked bad as now Boss could get the full view of his gash along his side- the blacks on all of the men seemed to be tattered.

Boss observed their surroundings for a moment before giving a light tap to Fixer on the foot. When that didn’t work the first time a much hard kick was implemented.

Fixer gasped awake along with Scorch after a “friendly” tap from the clone comando.

I didn’t take Scorch long before he leaned back against the wall and groaned, clearly he knew the situation at hand.

Boss could only stare for another second at Sev, guilt rummaged through his insides as he helped his injured brother up ultimately waking him as well. This was his fault and Boss couldn’t shake that.

“Fixer start working on those bindings.” Boss ordered unable to keep his gaze on the unconscious padawan. Clearly to the eyes of their captors the Jedi was the bigger threat.

Sev hissed for a moment now finding a new brother to lean on.

You came to with the feeling of someone’s exposed hands brushing against your arms. The pounding in your head was present but the blanket of confusion was much scarier.

“Thanks for joinin’ us.” The unmistakable voice of scorch chimed in. Your eyes strained against the darkness but you could tell what the problem was.

The cool metal hurt your wrists as Fixer fiddled with them muttering a small apology every once in a while.

Boss’ low voice filled the cell, plans of just how they would get out to fight another day. Your eyes scanned the worrisome group.

Scorch sat fidgeting with his hands trying desperately to listen but you could see the worry in his eyes as clear as day.

Fixer sat in front of you cursing and apologizing but he just couldn’t seem to do anything useful without his tools and data pad.

Sev’s eyes closed everyone once in a while and you could see the fight to remain in the moment, though his scowl never seemed to be wiped off.

And finally Boss. His voice was level and low just like the countless other times you heard him give directions, however this time was different. He knew this wasn’t in their favor and he was worried beyond belief.

Someone had to stay strong for them all.

Your heartbeat beat out of your chest, a dull throb started in your temples the feeling seemed vaguely familiar.

“I think someone’s coming.” For the first time you were unsure in the force. Fixer faltered for a moment before meeting your eyes. “It’s probably these. Messing with you.” He shook the bindings.

Though to your surprise, and relief in a way, someone did make their way down the hall. Boss spoke out quickly as you averted your gaze, sweat started to form on your brow.

“We need a medic.” It was hard to call it pleading despite where Boss said it from his position on the floor, but it was definitely more of a demand.

2 masked figures approached though they seemed to ignore Boss all together.

“We need the Jedi.” The cool voice stated only once.

Everyone seemed to freeze for a moment unsure about which group would make the first move.

“Get up.” Was demanded at you and you glanced around meeting Boss’ eyes for only a moment before you gripped onto the sleeve of Fixer.

The ray shield was down now and the larger figure stepped in. “I’m not asking again”

“Like kriff they’re going with you.” Scorch stood in front of you now. His full height filled up their line of sight.

“Move clone.” For a second Scorch was pushed back that was until Boss stood as well and shoved their captor away from his brother.

Before the other could react with their blaster Scorch was all over them. Fixer taking the hint that their time was now scrambled to get their other brother still on the floor.

Your eyes were blown wide with the loud alarm that was set off. You felt someone grab your arm as you were still in a little daze.

“I hope you didn’t think we were really gonna let them take ya.” Scorch said as the group rushed down the halls.

You thought about that for a moment, had there truly been something to worry about while you were surrounded but the Delta Squad, your brothers?

A smile broke out of your face and Scorch seemed to get your reply.

“I hope you know.” Scorch called over his shoulder. “You’re never picking the missions by yourself again Boss.”

An angry yell was heard from somewhere behind you replacing the fear in your body with a laugh. “You were the one to pick the bug mission Scorch!”

______________________________

Taglist:

@arctrooper69 @thereforepizza @padawancat97 @pb-jellybeans @floffytofu @verybadatwriting @solstraalaa @ray-rook @gregorsmissingarmor

#star wars #star wars clone wars #the clone wars #clone wars #the clone boys #my writing #toska-writes #clone boys #the delta squad #delta squad x reader #delta squad #republic commando #clone commando boss #clone commando fixer #clone commando sev #clone commando scorch #x platonic!reader #padawan reader #reader insert

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dystopicjumpsuit · 7 months

Note

DJ!!! If it's okay, for the first kiss prompt could I humbly ask for

"are you sure about this" with our voice king, Sev?

Or!!

their hearts stopping when they hear someone's camera click (a friend catching them in the act ?) with Tup?

Whichever one inspires you more! Please and thank you 💙

A/N: Thank you so much for the ask @secondaryrealm! It was so fun to get back into the swing of writing Sev. You’ll notice that I’m incapable of writing him without mentioning his voice. Voice kink gonna voice kink. Prompt is in purple!

Pairing: Sev x Reader (GN)

Rating: T, but minors DNI as always

Wordcount: 519

Warnings and tags: fluff, mentions of vomit

Summary: You do Sev a solid.

Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

“Are you sure about this?” Sev’s deep voice rumbled in your ear, sending a tingle of awareness across your neck.

You turned to look at him over your shoulder. “Kriff, no.”

He smirked and slid his helmet into place. “Too bad.”

Without warning, he spun you around and tackled you, sending you both flying out of the LAAT/i and into the abyss as his arms clamped around your body.

You shrieked, too terrified to be embarrassed by the sound. “Oh, my gods, I’m gonna die!”

You clung to Sev, burying your face against his chestplate as you squeezed your eyes shut, clenching your jaw to try to keep from screaming again.

Sev’s low, modulated chuckle sounded through his helmet speaker. “Relax, I’ve done this hundreds of times.”

“Carrying another person?!” you demanded raggedly, still not opening your eyes.

“Uh… no,” he admitted. “That’s why we needed volunteers for the training exercise.”

Your eyes snapped open, not that it mattered, since all you could see was Sev’s armor and helmet.

“Sev,” you asked nervously, “how many times have you done this while carrying somebody?”

“This is the first. I think it’s going well.”

“I can’t believe I let Scorch talk me into this,” you groaned.

“Everyone who’s ever met Scorch has said that at some point.”

You felt your weight shift as he adjusted the flight path of his jetpack, and your stomach flip-flopped. Gods, I think I’m gonna hurl. Please, please don’t let me hurl on him, you prayed silently to the Force.

“Don’t drop me,” you begged.

“Even if I did, the tether would keep you close.” Sev seemed to sense you didn’t find that as reassuring as he thought you would, and he tightened his fingers on you briefly. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

True to his word, he soon landed the pair of you safely on the ground. As he released you, your knees buckled, and he caught you just before you collapsed. He yanked off his helmet with his free hand, and you heard it thud to the ground as he tilted your head so he could see your face.

“You okay?” he asked, scanning you quickly for injuries.

“Yeah, sorry,” you said shakily. “I just need a minute.”

You willed your legs to work as you tried not to stare at his deep, gorgeous eyes or his stupid, perfect mouth that you’d been trying to ignore for months. Why does he smell so kriffing good? He has no right to smell like that.

You cleared your throat. “I, uh, think I can stand now.”

Sev didn’t loosen the arm he had wrapped around your waist, and he stroked your cheek softly with his thumb as he held your head. You gazed into each other’s eyes, as though suspended in time, and then he closed the distance between you as his lips met yours. His lips felt exactly as soft and stupidly perfect as you’d imagined, and you sucked in a tiny, broken gasp when the kiss ended far too soon.

“Wow,” you sighed. “I’m so glad I didn’t hurl on you.”

---

Looking for spicy Sev x reader fics? Allow me to plug my incredibly spicy fic, “Turn It Up When You’re Gone” Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3. The fourth and final chapter will be dropping next month!

#rc 1207 #republic commando sev #delta squad #repcomm #republic commando #sev x reader #star wars #clone wars #star wars fanfiction #clone wars fanfiction #dystopicjumpsuit writes #ask fic

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kaminocasey · 11 months

Text

Shy Boys Go to Heaven

Summary: Fixer doesn't like how much Scorch cozied up to you. He intends to show you that you're his and only his.

Pairing: Delta Squad!Fixer x F Medic!Reader

Warnings: MINORS DNI 18+; SMUT, Possessive/Jealous!Fixer, P in V (unprotected; wrap it up friends), oral (f receiving), cum eating, Rough sex. (If I missed something, lemme know)

WC: 3.1K

A/N: Guys... I was like possessed while writing this. Lmao. I genuinely don't know where this sudden love for Fixer came from bc literally the man pissed me off yesterday while I was reading. But c'est la vie, right? Anyway... I think I'm gonna start writing more Rep Comm fics. I'm still working on the Ordo x Reader x Mereel one, don't worry!

Taglist Form

“Ma’am.” Scorch winks at you, as he and the other Deltas walk into the medbay.

“Well, hello boys.” You smile. “Long time no see.”

“Only a few weeks.” Scorch teases.

Sev and Boss both nod in greeting toward you, taking off their helmets, but once you see Fixer’s familiar green armor, your whole body goes warm just as it does anytime you see him. It was still a secret to everyone, including his own brothers, that you and Fixer would hook up anytime they’d come planetside. You weren’t exactly official or anything, but you enjoyed each other’s company. He wasn’t exactly chatty or anything, as he was a man of few words, so you did most of the talking.

Fixer nods, his helmet still on, but you know he’ll find you later, so you give him a flirtatious grin as you go to help Scorch and Sev stock up on their medical supplies.

“So, when are you gonna join the field?” Scorch teases, bumping you slightly. “We could always use a skilled medic.”

“Leave the poor woman alone, Scorch.” Boss rolls his eyes before walking over to Alai, your pretty coworker.

Fixer told you once that Alai and Boss hooked up a couple times, but never became anything serious. But he wasn’t supposed to know that, and Alai never told you, so the two of you weren’t the only ones with secrets.

“When are you gonna stop asking me?” You tease Scorch back.

“When you cave to my charm and good looks and say yes.” Scorch winks.

With a roll of your eyes, you turn to look at Fixer, finding him more rigid than usual. Why hasn’t he taken his helmet off?

You let Scorch and Sev do their thing as you walk over to Fixer, looking up into his visor. “You alright?”

He nods once, which is code for “Not really, but we’ll talk about it later.” and you know it’s a promise. With a soft sigh, you pat his hand and go sit at your desk, pulling up your end of day data reports.

“How long are you boys planetside?” You ask them.

“Til tomorrow. Why, you trying to join us for a night of fun?” Scorch flirts.

You shake your head with a laugh, but before you can say anything, Fixer tosses Scorch another crate, barely giving the other man time to catch it, and walks out.

“What’s his deal?” Scorch asks Sev, who just shrugs, taking the crate to stock it.

You know you can’t go after him. If you do, it’ll raise suspicion, which you know is the last thing that Fixer wants. So, you just hope that you’ll see him later.

Later that night, back at your apartment, you can’t stop thinking about Fixer. What if he doesn’t come tonight? What if the real reason he was so stiff and rigid is because he wants to end it with you? You’ve been doing a lot of thinking the last few months, and you’ve come to the realization that you want this thing with Fixer to be more permanent… But if he doesn’t… then, you’ll have to accept it and move on. No matter how much it hurts.

As you make a cup of tea, preparing for bed, you hear the front door open and you know immediately who it is. You don’t even have to look.

But, he’s the one who left so swiftly and suddenly earlier, so he can be the one to initiate the conversation tonight, which you know is something he’s not particularly fond of doing. You aren’t going to sleep with him until he talks, though. A conversation has to be had, no matter what conversation it is.

You hear heavy footsteps make their way to your room as you make your bed down.

“Hey.” You murmur, barely glancing at him in the doorway of your room.

He doesn’t say anything, though. He walks over to “his” side of the bed, but you put your hand up, stopping him. He’s not wearing his armor anymore, but he is in just his bodysuit. You try to avoid looking at his well-toned form, looking him in the face.

Fixer tilts his head.

“Nothing to say?” You ask, quietly, waiting for him to just say something, but he doesn’t. “Of course not…”

He looks down at your fluffy comforter he loves so much, which he’s mentioned a couple times before.

“Fixer.” You sigh, making him look up at you with those deep warm brown eyes that you adore so much.

He sighs with a soft grunt running his hand through his curls, clearly frustrated.

“You have to give me something.” You crawl on the bed, settling in the middle on your knees.

He’s eyeing the soft skin of your thighs that’s showing in your short silk pajama set. It’s his favorite pair, and you know it. Maybe you’re using it to your advantage. He looks like he wants to touch you, but isn’t letting himself.

“If you want to fuck me tonight… you have to let me in.” You do your best to look at him, firmly.

“I…” He starts, rolling his eyes as he struggles to say what he wants to say. “Ugh. Scorch… knows that I… feel things… for you.”

“And?”

“And… he flirts with you… to get under my skin.” Fixer’s gripping the comforter, his fists tight. “And it works. I hate that it works, cyar’ika.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you hate it?”

“Because…” He struggles again.

You crawl to him, running your hands up his chest, making his tight fists let go of the sheets. His calloused hands run around your soft body, pulling you against each other. His eyes are on your lips.

Stay firm, you remind yourself. Who cares if he’s second in command in one of the most intimidating commando squads? Not you. You are not giving in first.

“Please, Fixer.” You sigh. “I was under the impression you wanted to end things with me.”

“Oh… That’s not it at all.” He murmurs. “I promise.”

Maker, he smells so fucking good. Too good.

“So, what is it, then?” You pull away, sitting back on your butt in the middle of the bed, needing a little space before you cave.

He climbs up into the bed, pushing you on your back, pinning you down.

“Fixer-” You start.

“Just listen, will you?” He asks, gently, but also strained.

You nod, letting him continue.

“You, cyar’ika… are mine. Only mine. You belong to me. The thought of any other man touching you, or even speaking to you…” You hear a low frustrated rumble in his throat. “If Scorch wasn’t my vod, I’d have ripped him apart.”

You didn’t know that Fixer feels this way about you, but it does something to your insides and goes straight to your warmth. Does he know how you feel about him? Surely, he does.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” Fixer asks, lowly, his lips so close to yours.

You nod, losing yourself in those brown orbs and breathlessly murmur, “Yes.”

“Say it then.” Fixer whispers, even closer to lips. “I need to hear it.”

You think this might be the most he’s ever said in an entire night. And fuck, if they’re not the hottest words any man has ever said to you…

“I’m yours.” You bite your lip, trying to squeeze your legs together for some sort of release. “I belong to you, Fixer.”

“That’s right.” He smiles, softly. “Good girl.”

Unable to hold back any longer, you reach up, crushing your lips to his. He groans loudly against your mouth, pressing himself against you, making you feel just how hard he is. All from hearing you tell him you belong to him.

“You like hearing that you belong to me?” He hums.

You nod, whimpering as he grinds his hardened cock against your clothed core. “Y-yes.”

“Good.” He whispers before, pulling away to pull your shorts down, dropping them to the floor behind him.

“Clothes off-” You gasp as he grips your thighs.

Fixer chuckles, getting up off the bed quickly. “Yes, ma’am.”

As you watch him drop his clothes with yours, you sit up to pull your silky tank top off, tossing it with the rest. He takes in your naked form and groans, gripping his cock, already dripping precum.

You start back toward him, eager to get your mouth on him, but he pushes you back again and then, to your surprise, flips you over onto your stomach, pulling you up on your knees and then pressing your face down so that your ass is up.

You think he’s gonna push his cock into you, unable to wait any longer, but he surprises you once again, by licking a long stripe up your drenched folds.

“Oh, Fuck… Fix…” You groan, reaching above you to grip the comforter, just as he was doing earlier.

“Taste so good, sweetheart.” He murmurs against your cunt. “Like always.”

You whimper softly, almost pathetically, when he continues licking into you, his strong fingers, pressing against your clit and rubbing expertly, as always.

“So wet.” He teases.

“So talkative.” You tease back, just happy to hear him talking.

He places a swift smack to your back cheek and you gasp sharply into the room. He rubs the spot where he spanked you and then kisses it before returning back to your soaked pussy.

Your moans fill the room as he continues to work your cunt, getting you nice and soaked for his cock, soon you hope. You want so desperately to be filled by him again. It feels like it’s been too long.

Twenty-six days. But who’s counting?

When he reaches his fingers into you, you feel like you’re about to come right then. It’s been days since you even touched yourself, and you’re pretty sure Fixer can tell.

He chuckles breathlessly. “So needy for me.”

“Mmhmm.” You groan, burying your whimpers into the covers.

“So fucking tight… Can’t wait to sink my cock into you.” He rambles.

You’ve always been accepting that he was a man of few words, but tonight… something changed. Like some sort of switch inside of him, flipped the other way. He’s talking, quietly, and Maker, you love his voice. It’s so low, and so sensual, and goes straight to your warmth.

“Why… wait?” You bounce yourself on his fingers.

“Patience, cyar’ika… Or I’ll make you fuck your own fingers.” He threatens you.

You whine softly, looking back at him and he grins before burying his face in your cunt again, still thrusting his fingers into you, starting to tease that spongy part deep inside of you. The warm familiar feeling pools into you, spreading all the way to your toes, making them curl and before you know it, you’re cumming all over Fixer’s fingers and tongue, moaning into the mattress.

“Let me fucking hear you.” He reaches up to grab your hair, pulling so that your moans and wet sounds fill the entire room.

His thrusting fingers gently slow, before pulling out of you. You pant slightly, as you fall to the bed, rolling over to look up at him, smiling blissfully.

“Fuck me… please?” You whisper.

“I will, I promise.” He murmurs, laying next to you.

The look in his eyes is serious now, not playful like it was just moments ago.

“What is it?” You trace your gentle fingers over his chest, anxiously making lazy patterns.

“I’m afraid that I sounded overbearing earlier…” He stops your hand and brings it to his lips.

This is the softest, most domestic that he’s ever been with you, and you’re almost afraid to move, not wanting it to end.

“I didn’t think you did.” You assure him.

“I don’t want to like… own you.” He chuckles. “But… I guess what I’m trying to say is… I want people to know you- we belong to each other.”

Your chest tightens at his confession and you can’t help but reach up and kiss him. It’s different somehow. Like, all of your kisses before were that of passion or lust… this is… sweet… kind. Fixer sighs against your lips, full of content.

“Next time Scorch flirts with me, I’ll just punch him if you want?” You tease.

“Actually, yes please.” He laughs and you cross your leg over his thigh.

This is the first time you’ve ever heard him laugh fully and you try to commit the sound to memory, hoping that you get to hear it more.

“What made you come to this realization?” You ask.

“Oh, I always want to punch Scorch.” He smirks.

You playfully smack him in the chest, making him chuckle.

“I was on a mission… and I thought for sure we were going to die…” Fixer murmurs, making your stomach churn. “All I could think of was you. Your smile. Your laugh. Your kindness. The way you curl up next to me at night. The way you-” You roll over on top of him, straddling him, grinding your wet folds over his still hard cock. “Keep going.”

“Fuck…” He groans, gripping your hips tightly. “The way that you cry at holofilms…”

You lift your hips, reaching under you and grabbing his cock, making him gasp.

“Th-the way y-you…” He struggles.

“Keep. Going.” You encourage him, smiling down at him as you line yourself up with his hardened length.

“Th-the way you have to stop to say hi to every loth cat-” He groans incredibly loud as you sink down onto him. “Fuck!”

His eyes roll back in his head as he tilts his head back slightly, making you smile. Clenching around him in a teasing manner, he lets out another string of curses. He fills you so perfectly, just like always. But tonight… it just feels like it means so much more. He feels the same way about you, that you do him.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, not a mission.” He grumbles.

“Yeah, but what a way to go, right?” You grin down at him, brightly.

“I’ll fucking say.” He starts to buck up into you and you push him back down, keeping your hands against his chest.

You start to lift up slightly, only to fall back down against him, making him actually whimper. It’s always music to your ears when you get that sound out of Fixer.

“Maker, Fix… you’re so hard.” You tell him, seduction clear in your tone and his hands fly up to yours on his chest, gripping your hands, creating more support.

He wants you to take over. And you’re happy to oblige. You start bouncing up and down on his cock, causing both of you to groan with need.

The sounds leaving the man underneath you deserve to go into some sort of auditory museum, they’re so fucking beautiful. He’s so beautiful.

“You like when I’m on top?” You ask him, breathlessly, squatting so you can glide up and down on his cock, easier.

“Stars, yes…” He pants. “So… tight.”

You feel the burn in your thighs but you’re able to ignore it, purely driven by the craving for this man. He must sense it though, because he provides support under you, gripping your ass, helping lift you up and down and you can’t help but smile. He winks up at you and it goes straight to your core. You can tell he’s getting closer with each thrust, though.

“Permission to take over?” He whispers.

“Granted, trooper.” You laugh.

He flips the two of you over, so that you’re on your back and starts driving into you.

Oh, he’s definitely welcome to take over.

“So fucking pretty… and perfect.” He groans in your ear, continuously slamming into you, getting the most perfect sounds out of you. “All mine.”

As he tells you that you’re his, his hips stutter only slightly, filling you up, painting your walls with himself. Normally, he’d start to pull away, but he just keeps fucking his cum into you, and honestly, it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. And then when he pulls out, you expect him to stop, but he doesn’t.

He travels down your body, latching his mouth to your cunt again and you nearly descend into another realm.

“Fuck…” You moan, still overstimulated from earlier.

He’s never done this before, cumming in you and then going down on you again. But you’re not complaining. His tongue feels way too good, but with the way that it's moving in you… it takes you a moment to realize he’s gathering up his cum as he rubs your clit. Before you can even say anything, another orgasm is ripped from your body, and he travels back up your body and taps your lips, clearly wanting you to open your mouth. Oh. You gladly open for him and he lets his cum slide into your mouth.

“Swallow for me, sweetheart.” He smirks.

Who are you to deny a dangerous commando? You do as you’re told, swallowing his cum, appreciating the taste of him like you normally do when you go down on him.

“Good girl.” He tells you again for the second time tonight, and then kisses you, proudly.

You both pant against each other, your chests heaving, as you try to come down. He pulls you up to the head of the bed, against the pillows, wrapping his arms around you.

You rest your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. You’ve always found it calming.

“Maybe I should join your squad…” You tease, only slightly.

“Absolutely not.” Fixer shakes his head as he traces patterns over your bare back.

“Why not?” You ask, looking up at him, confused.

“Because I wouldn’t be able to focus… I’d be too busy trying to make sure you were okay.” He smiles. “I like knowing you’re here… safe and sound.”

You suppose that makes sense… Even though, when he’s away, you don’t know if he’s safe.

“Can I tell you something?” You whisper, afraid to speak too loudly.

“Anything.” He kisses your forehead.

“Every time you go, you take a piece of me with you, Fix.” You admit.

“Can I tell you something?” He murmurs.

“Of course.” You answer, nervously.

“Every time I go, I leave my heart here with you.” He admits.

Warmth floods your veins. “Well, I promise to keep it safe.”

“I know you will.” He leans down to kiss you again.

You eventually fall asleep like that, holding each other with sweet promises of him returning to you and you keeping his heart safe and sound.

TAGS: @twistedstitcher27 @misogirl828 @rebel-finn @rexandechosandwich @madameminor @dumfanting @rain-on-kamino @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @brynhildrmimi @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @quigonswife8 @idlenesses @redheadgirl @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @rosmariner @heyitsaloy @starstofillmydream @high-ct5555 @echos-girlfriend @sleepywych @nekotaetae @justanothersadperson93 @brownstalebread @aconstructofamind @book-of-baba-fett @chopper-base @palliateclaw @501st-rexster @dead-poolz @nahoney22 @where-is-my-mind-tho @jediknightjana @erishimoon @witching3 @queen-of-many-fandoms @wizardofrozz

#rep comm fixer #delta squad fixer #delta squad fixer x reader #fixer x reader #rep comm fixer x reader #republic commando fixer

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wanderinginksplot · 6 months

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Sev + "I'm going to give you five seconds to take that back."

Sev x gn!reader (no use of 'y/n' and no pronouns). Flirty (ish).

Word Count: 2,400

Warnings: discussions of medical concerns, references to missions, stimulant misuse, grandstanding, ill-planned bets, semi-flirtatious wrestling.

---

It had all started when you tried to talk your most recent set of charges into being more healthy.

Delta Squad had been a source of constant frustration for you since you were assigned to be their medic. Normally, commando squads weren’t overly concerned about having a medic on-board. However, Delta had a close call on a previous mission. One commando, Sev, had been in especially bad shape.

Some time in a bacta tank had fixed the worst of their injuries, but there were certain limits they shouldn’t push if they wanted to avoid a repeat. Sev needed to be particularly careful, since he had suffered damage to his ribs and many of the organs within them - including his heart.

Which was why you had been irretrievably furious when you found him downing a packet of stims.

“Are you trying to die?” you had demanded. “Because I know you’re not stupid, and those are the only possible reasons you would be using stims with damage to your heart. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I have a mission to complete and I don’t have eight hours to sleep before we get there.”

Honestly, you could have expected that kind of answer, but the nonchalant tone Sev had used was what pushed you over the edge.

“And when they wear off? You know, since you took them three hours before we even break atmosphere?” You had shaken your head, clenching your jaw so tightly that the muscles ached. “If you had bothered to talk to me, I would have advised you to sleep for that time, then take half a stim pack when we arrive.”

“I don’t need some vorpan baar'ur telling me what to do,” he had spat. “As long as I can do my job, the GAR doesn’t worry about the little things. Including my health or my life.”

You didn’t understand the Mando’a, obviously, but that didn’t stop you from rolling your eyes at the drama of his caustic words.

“Apparently, having someone tell you what to do is exactly what you needI” you had countered. “Do you know what kind of shape you’ll be in after another dose of stims? Even I would be able to beat you in a wrestling match! Some use you’ll be to your brothers then.”

It was a bit too far, and you felt bad as silence fell in the small ship. You had worked with enough troopers to know that they prided themselves on loyalty to their brothers above all else. In your defense, though, you recognized the signs of someone who wouldn’t be talked out of their nihilism. By meeting him head-on using the parameters of life as he saw it, you had hoped to shake him out of his stubbornness.

It was only bad luck that it hadn’t worked. Sev’s expression had darkened and you prepared yourself for a threat or a cutting insult, but Scorch had laughed, breaking the tension.

“Sounds like a good, old-fashioned bet,” he had said, chuckling in a way that could only be described as ‘gleeful’.

Sev had scoffed and walked away without another word, but your luck ran out.

Delta Squad had gotten a call from General Jusik, alerting them that the leader of the Separatist-controlled planet had opted for a peace talk. As a gesture of good faith, the GAR was withdrawing the commando squads who had been set to invade.

“We’ve been redirected,” Boss announced when Jusik disconnected the call. The sergeant stepped out of the small cockpit where he had been navigating with Fixer. “We’re to touch down on a Republic-friendly planet in the next system and settle in. We’ll be backup if things go south, so stay ready to go. Get some sleep if you can.”

“Those of us who didn’t already take a packet of stims,” you had muttered when Sev went back to cleaning his blaster instead of heading for the bunks.

Unfortunately, your sarcasm would prove to be your undoing. Scorch perked up at your quiet admonishment, visibly brightening. “Hey, didn’t you say you could beat Sev in hand-to-hand when he’s using stims?”

“Yes,” you confirmed, holding eye contact with Scorch, but trying to watch Sev in your peripheral vision.

“I’m going to give you five seconds to take that back,” Sev growled. When you looked over, you saw that he very much was not focusing on his blaster anymore.

“I don’t think I will.” The way you lifted your chin was nothing short of antagonistic, but you were angry. Clarity of thought while angry had never been your forte. Despite that, you clocked the gray undertones in Sev’s face and the way his fingers were trembling slightly. “In fact, I think I could beat you now, whether or not you take another dose.”

“You’re on,” Sev told you, a challenge thick in his tone.

“Wait-” How you hadn’t seen this coming, you weren’t sure, but your stomach was sinking. “I didn’t mean I actually want to wrestle you. I’m just telling you, as a medical professional, that-”

“Hey, you already said you would,” Scorch reminded you. “Too late to go back on it now.”

“Knock it off, Six-Two. It isn’t too late for anything,” Fixer told him, turning around in the cockpit to face you all. Before you could thank him, he continued as he eyed you directly. “It’s actually a choice: wrestle Oh-Seven or admit that stims aren’t that bad.”

“They are that bad, though,” you insisted.

“If you’re going to wrestle on my ship, do it in the cargo bay,” Boss said over his shoulder. “I don’t want to explain broken equipment to the GAR.”

“This isn’t enough of a challenge to break anything,” Sev decreed. He watched you as he set aside his blaster and stood. “Cargo bay. Five minutes.”

It was overdramatic to specify a time and place on such a small ship, but it still made the pit of your stomach tighten. You took care to offer him an unimpressed face and a simple nod.

"This is gonna be fun!" Scorch said excitedly.

You strongly disagreed, but that wasn’t going to help. It was far too late for that. So you stifled your misgivings and made your way to the back of the ship.

Sev had stripped off his armor by the time you got there. That hadn’t been a concern, but you wondered if it should have been. There was nothing at all you could do against plastoid armor. However, much as you loathed to admit it even to yourself… you were almost as disadvantaged anyway. The sight of Sev’s muscles swelling and bulging under the tightness of his body glove was enough to make the ship feel like it was lurching through the galaxy.

You were wearing comfortable clothes, having refused to change into your lightly armored medic’s gear until you were closer to your eventual destination. You were comfortable and didn’t have to strip off any clothing, but that was almost a pity. It was starting to feel distinctly warm aboard the small ship…

“Ready?” Sev asked.

You nodded, resigned to being decimated by the fully-trained commando. He didn’t attack immediately, choosing to watch you instead. You circled warily, already closer than you liked. The cargo bay of the ship was reasonably big and, as promised, you weren’t going to break anything. That should keep Boss happy, but there still wasn’t a vast amount of space.

So you and Sev circled around, watching each other. You were focused on his chest: all of the hand-to-hand training the GAR had offered told you that motion was typically forecasted in the torso, so that was the best place to watch if you wanted to avoid being surprised.

When you occasionally snuck a glance at Sev, he was watching your face rather than your torso. At first, you wondered if you should be doing the same with him, but then you started to feel flustered rather than wary at the weight of his eyes.

That was when he pounced.

You managed to avoid the first lunge, but you weren’t expecting him to recover his balance as quickly as he did. In half a moment, Sev was upright once more and diving at you.

A strong arm hooked around your waist and you were falling, cushioned from the ground by Sev’s body, but the impact still knocked the air from your lungs. Sev flipped you over and you made your move, rolling quickly out from under him before he had time to close the distance between you.

You got to your feet - or, you started to. Sev’s hand closed around your ankle and pulled. It wasn’t enough to put you back on the floor, but it was enough to bring you heavily to your hands and knees. Since you were already in the proper position, you kicked out with your foot and felt a surge of victory when your heel connected.

And then you were horrified, turning around as you gave a loud gasp. “Sev! Are you okay? I’m so sorry-”

There was a small smudge of dirt on his forehead from your boot, but Sev’s grin flashed bright. “I’m fine. Keep going.”

And then he grabbed both of your ankles, pulling hard enough that your knees went out from under you and you landed on your stomach with a soft, “Oof!”

Sudden heat at your back warned that Sev was getting ready to pin you, so you rolled again. He seemed to expect the movement then, dropping onto you in mid-turn from your side to your back.

With a sudden, surging need to keep your freedom, you pulled back a fist. Your goal was Sev’s recently injured ribs, but you came to your senses before the blow came too close to landing. You were a medic, and every bit of training you had received covered how to prevent injuries, not cause them.

Sev didn’t know that, however, and he winced sharply. He curled into himself in an effort to protect his ribs - a motion that only put more pressure on them. The flash of pain across his face would have made you stop even if you hadn’t already decided to do so.

“Are you-?”

Before you could ask if he was hurt, he had reached down, snagged your wrists, and pressed them against the cold metal of the floor. You were pinned.

You were on your back with a commando pressing you into the floor, but you both… stopped. Your breathing was heavy and - with more than a little surprise - you noticed that Sev’s was, too. Of course, his ribs probably still hurt and you would have to check him for a boot-borne head injury, but you couldn’t help but wonder if he was feeling anything other than pain.

You definitely were.

The chilly bite of the floor at your back faded into the distance as you and Sev studied each other from closer than you had ever been. Sev always looked vaguely angry, but you had wondered if that was his natural expression. That seemed to be true: if you didn’t know him as well as you did, you would have taken his expression to be one of irritation and disdain. But there was softness in it, too. That was what left you feeling like you couldn’t get a full breath.

“Well, Sev, I’d say you won,” Boss remarked dryly.

The comment pulled you back into the moment and you realized that Boss, Fixer, and Scorch were all observing the scene. It felt vaguely ridiculous then, wondering what it would be like to kiss the man who currently had you pinned to the dirty floor. But as Sev released his grip and stood, you missed the warmth of him like it was something tangible.

To your surprise, though, Sev held a hand out to you in a silent offer to help you stand. You took it and he lifted you easily. The silence was thick.

You cleared your throat. “Well, I guess I was wrong. One stim pack isn’t enough for me to win a wrestling match. I still think-”

“Save it,” Sev ordered and you froze. No matter what you thought had changed between you, it wasn’t enough to save you from his sharp tongue. But when he spoke again, Sev’s voice was far more gentle. “It was closer than I thought it would be. Another few minutes and I would have probably lost. I’ll lay off the stims.”

“Aww, no rematch?” Scorch complained.

Fixer made a sharply derisive noise and left for the cockpit. “I’ll pilot us to the staging planet.”

“All of you, get some rest,” Boss ordered before he left as well.

Scorch lingered a moment, glancing between you and Sev. You were still standing close together, the tension palpable between you. Unlike most of your interactions, that tension was not actively hostile.

You were torn between wanting Scorch to leave so you and Sev could talk about what had just happened, and wanting him to stay so you didn’t have to. Slowly, like he was watching something interesting unfold before his eyes, Scorch turned and retreated to his bunk. Since the bunks were in the section just ahead of the cargo bay, Scorch was still in hearing range, but a sense of privacy settled thickly around you and Sev.

When you finally gathered the courage to look over, Sev was watching you. Neither of you spoke, and your mind raced in an effort to find the right words.

Your lips parted, though you didn’t have the slightest idea what you planned on saying. Fortunately, Sev spoke before you could say some muddled assortment of words that might mean nothing… or too much.

“We should sleep while we can,” he told you. After a moment, he added with a wry grin, “Some medic told me I need actual rest, not just stim packs.”

It was more familiar ground, and you relaxed enough to jibe, “What disappointing news.”

“Yeah,” Sev agreed. “But the delivery made it a little better.”

You could only shake your head as you followed him to the bunks.

---

Author's Note - I love Sev wayyyyy too much! I have written more fics for him than for any other member of Delta Squad. That being said, I'm going to focus on Scorch and Boss next since I haven't done much for them. If you have any great ideas for either one that you'd like to throw my way, feel free to comment, ask, or message!

Thanks for reading! You can find other works on my masterlist. As of a few days ago, I discontinued my taglist. You can find just fics on my side-blog, @wanderinginksplot-writes. (As soon as I work through my drafts on this blog, all fics will be posted there first and cross-posted here later.)

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars republic commando #star wars legends #delta squad #republic commando #repcomm #delta squad sev #sev x reader #sev x you #reader insert #reader #gn!reader

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clonememesfrikyeah · 1 month

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For all my fanfic writers and consumers, imagine: a readerXAlpha-17 fic where reader has such a creative sailors mouth that some of the diabolical things they say to people has A-17 gasping in horror and clutching his pearls

#ex:#reader@some shit bag: I wish I could be mad at you but it wouldn’t change how much dick you suck you pastrami fiddling troglodyte #A-17: *loud scandalous gasp* 🫢#honestly he just wasn’t expecting it out of them when they first met it just surprised him a little #reader is a walking HR violation spitting insults he’s never even heard out of even the worst of the worst #and he’s here for it #like the first time it happens reader is picking a fight and drops the most nauseating line and 17’s hand FLYS to his mouth #bro almost feels the need to apologize for just hearing it then has to get involved in the fight reader got them into T•T #alpha 17 #tcw #the clone wars #clone wars 2003 #x reader #reader insert #Star Wars #star wars legends #republic commando #like 17 sees them verbally incinerate a shitty trainer and he’s like yeah that’s the one right there with stars in his eyes 😭🤣#alpha arcs #clone troopers #arc troopers

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wizardofrozz · 7 months

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Learning to Trust

Ordo Skirata x reader, mention of Mereel and Kal Skirata

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: swearing, mention of war, mostly just fluff

A/N: I got punched in the face with this idea and amazed myself with how fast I wrote it lmao hope you enjoy! ❤️

jagyc’kovid: dickhead

shabuir: motherfucker

It was peaceful. The gentle undercurrent of the water rocked the Aay’han, reminding you of a mother rocking her newborn. The co-pilot seat wasn’t the most comfortable but if you sat at an angle, your feet resting on the control panel, you could let your muscles relax enough that you could possibly nap. Your eyes followed the bright, glimmering aquatic life that swam past, watching them shimmer in the sunlight that streamed through the water. The Aay’han was floating off the coast of the capital city, waiting for Sergeant Skirata and Mereel to com for a pickup.

You had been undercover for the Republic for…a long time, gathering intel about the manufacturing of Separatist droids. Life had been fairly normal, well as normal as it could be for a Republic spy until a certain Mandalorian and his small squad of clones came crashing through your front door. Literally. You glanced at the pilot’s chair, the corner of your lips lifting.

Ordo was stretched out in the chair beside you, his long legs crossed at the ankles. His arms were folded over his chest, his head tipped forward until his chin nearly touched his chest. His empty Mandalorian helmet sat on the floor beside his chair and every once in a while, you could hear faint, staticky voices floating from inside. The muted shimmer of the water threw a faint glow over his face; Ordo looked peaceful, his usually tense expression slack, his eyes closed.

He was sleeping. You muffled a chuckle against the back of your hand, carefully lowering your feet to the floor. The co-pilot chair groaned as you stood and you paused, half-standing, to dart your eyes back towards Ordo. He huffed heavily through his nose but otherwise didn’t move.

It took a few minutes of rustling through cabinets as quietly as possible, having to stop a few times when you made too much noise before you finally found a blanket. It smelled a bit musty but it would do. You unfolded it on your back to the cockpit, smirking at Ordo’s sleeping form before you carefully draped the blanket over him. He shifted lazily, his brow wrinkling for a moment and you stood a little straighter and held your breath. Ordo’s lashes fluttered, his dark glassy eyes taking a moment to focus but they quickly lifted to where you stood over him.

“Sorry to wake you,” you murmured with an apologetic smile.

“Wasn’t sleepin’,” Ordo grumbled, dragging himself into a sitting position. The furrow between his brows deepened as he looked down at the blanket pooling in his lap. There was an odd look on his face, one you had seen occasionally in the time you’d spent with him. The innocent, almost confused expression always made your heart ache and it was even worse when he tilted his head back to look up at you.

“I thought you’d be more uncomfortable,” you explained, gesturing to the blanket as you leaned against the back of his chair. Ordo nodded slowly, absently rubbing the fabric between his gloved fingers. “You can try and go back to sleep if you’d like.”

Ordo somehow looked more tense than usual for a moment, before dropping his eyes to the blanket again. “Alright.” For some reason, it surprised you; accidentally falling asleep was one thing but this showed that he trusted you enough to willingly let himself rest.

“Hm, you must really trust me,” you teased. Ordo turned in his chair again and you were suddenly aware of how close he was, his face close enough that you could see the faint freckles on his cheeks. Ordo was always intense but the way he looked at you, bright brown eyes smoldering, made your stomach somersault.

“I do.” He spoke softly like it was a secret but there was no uncertainty in his voice. Your breath caught when he smiled, crooked and boyish, disarmingly charming without even trying. Sometimes you wondered if he was aware of it but based on some of the more…awkward encounters you’d had with him, you were pretty sure it was natural.

“Thank you,” you whispered, meaning it wholeheartedly. Ordo’s smile started to fade but you didn’t miss the way his eyes darted down to your mouth, his tongue poking out to wet his lips before he forced his gaze elsewhere. He cleared his throat quietly and when his eyes found yours again you caught the muted anxiety that flashed across his face.

You had no idea where the confidence came from that had you leaning down, bringing your face even closer to his. Ordo tensed but didn’t pull away, letting the strained silence linger. A shiver zipped up your spine when he tilted his head slowly, his eyes darting between your eyes and your lips. He paused, leaving almost no space between you and him and you could feel his slow, rhythmic breathing against your chin.

“Can I?” he asked softly.

“Please.”

A soft gasp filled the air when he closed the space and you weren’t sure if you made the sound or if he had. The kiss was hesitant, neither of you moving for a moment until one of his large hands closed around your bicep and you melted against him, sighing through your nose. It was clear Ordo didn’t have much experience but he didn’t seem to mind following your lead. He inhaled sharply when your tongue swept over his bottom lip but he quickly caught on, parting his lips.

The low groan from deep in his chest made you shiver, a hand coming to cup the back of his head, your fingers threading through his soft curls.

“Ord’ika? You read me?” You and Ordo jumped so hard at the familiar voice that your heads knocked together, each of you quickly reaching up to rub the now-aching spot. Ordo growled through clenched teeth, twisting around to punch a button on the control panel; despite the pain blooming across your forehead, you barely stifled a laugh.

“What?” he snapped, glaring at the blue hologram that popped up. Mereel tilted his head, arching a brow but there was the hint of a smirk on his face.

“What’d you do to your head?”

“None of your business, jagyc’kovid. What d’ya want?”

“Pickup would be nice,” Mereel sighed with a shrug. He glanced over his shoulder with a badly hidden smirk and winked at who you assumed was Kal.

“Send coordinates,” Ordo grumbled, ending the call without letting Mereel respond. “Shabuir.”

You giggled, biting your lip when Ordo threw a narrow-eyed look in your direction. “Come on, let’s go get them.”

“Should leave 'em,” Ordo huffed, rubbing his forehead one last time before dropping his hands to the panel again and starting the flight sequence. The smile that spread across your face was fonder than you thought possible and you leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss on his cheek. You settled into the co-pilot chair, glancing over at him again with a smirk.

Ordo refused to look at you but there was no denying that his cheeks were a little redder than before.

Ragu list:

@a-single-tulip @wings-and-beskar @anxiouspineapple99 @dystopicjumpsuit @secondaryrealm @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueen @msmeredithrose @starrylothcat @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @wolffegirlsunite @clonemedickix @sev-on-kamino

#CFB 2023 #ordo skirata x reader #ordo skirata #republic commando #null-11 #star wars #the clone wars #ordo skirata fic

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thecoffeelorian · 4 days

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"I'm Just Fett: A Star Wars Parody"

((I'll give a better description for this after it's ready, but for now?

Got inspired by a fanart that made Crosshair look like Ken from "The Barbie Movie", so long story short, this thing came out a short time later. Anyways, here's my rough draft: ))

Doesn't seem to matter what I've said I always lose my head No one knows how hard I try, oh-oh, I I have feelings that I can't explain Drivin' me insane All my life, been so polite But I'll fight alone tonight

'Cause I'm just Fett, anywhere else I'd be their bet Is it my destiny to live and die a life of clone fragility? I'm just Fett Where I see love, they see a pet What will it take for them to see the man behind the tan and fight for me?

I wanna know what's like to love, to be the real thing Is it a crime? Am I not hot when I'm in my feelings? And is my moment finally here, or am I dreaming? I'm no Jedi...

Can you feel the Fettergy? Feels so real, my Fettergy Can you feel the Fettergy? Feels so real, my Fettergy

I'm just Fett (and I'm enough) And I'm great at doing stuff So, hey, check me out, yeah, I'm just Fett My name's Fett (and so am I) Put that Trooper's hand in mine So, hey, world, check me out, yeah, I'm just Fett Baby, I'm just Fett... (nobody else, nobody else)

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sweetheartsnips · 8 months

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The 'Man' in Commando Part 1

Rating: Mature/18+/ MINORS DNI! BE GONE!

Pairing: RC-1207 Sev x Fem!Reader (Bartender)

Wordcount: 1.9k

Summary: A female bartender at 79s comes across one interesting Republic Commando among the hundreds of troopers she serves every day.

Warnings: Submissive reader, Sub/Dom undertones, mentions of (fake) blood, Glove kink, Voyeurism (if you squint), Alcohol consumption, Drunkenness (in patches),

A/N: My second ever fic, and my first that gets 'intimate'. I have no idea what I am doing. I have been playing Republic Commando and I wrote this in horny jail and should be punished for my sins. Please go easy on me.

Read on Ao3 here

Your job wasn’t overly glamorous, but it sufficed. The countless shinies trying to get you in bed and the wrangling of intoxicated troopers got old very quickly, as did the neon lighting and the smell of unshowered soldiers. Tonight, 79s was packed to the rafters. Hundreds of clones danced, drank and unwound under the blanket of cheap, flickering neon lighting. The GAR was celebrating from a successful campaign in the Expansion Region, as you had heard from every second trooper chewing your ear off.

The bar was a mess. One of your service droids was out of operation, falling victim to flying glass of spotchka that was hurled over the bar. Pouring yet another round of shots, you placed the last one on the tray, picked it up and turned to carry it over to the larrikin of a trooper that probably shouldn’t have been allowed to order more drinks. Before you could even take one step, a stray service droid was underneath you, tripping you and spilling a whole round of shots all over your front, the droid, and the floor.

“Kriff, AZI!” You shouted. More items to the list of things that had gone wrong tonight.

An even stickier floor and another broken droid. “Get that trooper another round”, you muttered to the nearest functioning droid. Collecting yourself, you stood up and brushed some stray hairs behind your ear. Before you could turn to make your way to the backroom to get changed, something, someone, caught your eye.

A T-shaped blue visor glowed through the crowd, pushing shinies aside, as he followed three other familiar troopers. The famed Delta Squad. Except this time, the fourth member of the quartet was with them. He was the most striking, and the most intimidating. A blood-coloured handprint stained the face of his helmet, down his arms and splattered over his chest. He followed his brothers, yet kept his distance. Shinies cleared their way for them, for him, as if he had the blue shadow virus. He was the only one out of his brothers that still donned his helmet. The buzz of troopers and thumping of the music faded into the background as you watched him curiously. Who was this commando?

In your trance you hardly noticed that he had separated from his brothers and was approaching the bar. Approaching you.

Snapping out of it, you greeted him, “What can I get for you, commando?”, offering him a smile.

“Whiskey. Neat please”. His charming, gravelly voice startled you. He didn’t sound like any of the other clones. His voice was deep, harsh, and sounded like could take out a battle droid in itself.

“No worries”, you said, clearing your throat that was suddenly dry, “Coming right up”.

You turned your back to the trooper, reaching to the top shelf for some of your finest whiskey. Not that this bar carried anything overly remarkable. You felt your ill-fitting tight shirt ride up as you reached above your head, embarrassment blazing across your cheeks as you felt the trooper’s eyes burning into your exposed skin, even through the helmet he still wore. Why does this commando intimidate you so much? You deal with troopers every day. But he was different.

You grabbed a hold of the bottle and turned to him. You could feel his eyes meet yours through his helmet. Your eyes lingered for a fleeting moment, but soon broke his gaze. you poured his drink and sparked up conversation to try and relieve your nerves.

“I hope that isn't real blood, commando, because I may just have to have you removed from the premises.” You raised an eyebrow, still pouring the whiskey. He didn’t respond.

“I know that you’re a soldier and all, but having blood smeared across your bucket isn’t exactly appropriate, let alone appetising.” You teased, yet he still didn’t answer. You finished preparing his drink and sat it on the bar in front of where he had since taken a seat.

“Not talkative tonight?” you asked, desperately trying to relieve the awkwardness that had overcome you.

“Sev. Call me Sev. And I’m quite happy just sitting here listening to you, mesh’la” His baritone voice made your stomach flutter, as did his compliment. It was different coming from him than any other trooper that had tried the same trick on you. He raised his hands to grip either side of his helmet and slowly removed it, revealing himself. Thick, glossy curls of jet black hair curtained his tanned face, his deep amber eyes maintaining eye contact with you. A pink scar sliced from his mid forehead, over his eye and cheekbone, down to his chin. His thick jaw clenched as a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, him obviously having caught you ogling at him.

He wrapped his large, gloved hand around the glass in front of him and raised it to his lips. Sipping his drink, he lowered it back down to sit on the bar.

“Not bad. You have good taste…….” He trailed off, looking at you with questioning eyes.

“I don’t give my name away to just any charming trooper at my bar”, your snickered, your lips curling into a cheeky smile.

“So be it, I’ll take that as a challenge.” He teasingly rolled his eyes, rocking in his chair.

Your eyes lowered to his chestplate, where a set of four numbers carved into the red-stained plastoid stood out. 4982. Interesting, must be his designation number, you brushed your curiosity aside.

“About the blood”, his thick voice cut in once again, “Don’t worry mesh’la, it may or may not be paint, why don’t you give it the old sniff test and find out” He sneered.

An incriminating shade of crimson flushed to your cheeks and you felt yourself grow hot, and it wasn’t just the steam from the glass cleaner below you. Wound up, you gathered yourself.

“I don’t sniff clones, commando.” You joked, “Not only is it unprofessional, but the smell of the battlefield isn’t exactly the most pleasant”.

“79s smells like that every night”, he stated. His gaze felt as if he could read your very thoughts and feelings.

“I suppose so. I better get back to work”, you shrunk down underneath his gaze and cowered away from the banter.

You turned away from Sev, nerves or excitement, you couldn’t really tell, still fluttering in your stomach. A very familiar pair of ARC troopers in blue were waiting at the bar for you.

“Look who is here” Fives says, “My favourite bartender! Somebody has to keep those droids in line!” He gestured at the broken droids still on the bar floor, elbowing his twin and bursting out into laughter.

“I’ve been too busy to get rid of them, obviously”. You defended. Busy with Sev.

His laughter fading, Fives’ gaze slid to look over your shoulder.

“Mesh’la, ‘t looks like somebody has their eye on you tonight”, Fives acknowledged, nodding in the direction that Sev had been sitting, “We’ll leave you to it”. Fives and Echo turned to go back to the booth where the rest of the 501st regulars sat.

Once again, that feeling of embarrassment and intimidation flooded over you, despite your false sense of confidence minutes earlier. You could do this, you talk to troopers every night without any nerves. He is just like all of his brothers.

You slowly turned to see Sev undressing you with his eyes. You suddenly felt stupid in your tight, black blouse and slacks. Swallowing, you walked back over to what was now his side of the bar, avoiding the broken droids on the floor.

“Can I help you, commando?” You asked, trying to snap him out of his lascivious gaze.

“You know those guys?” He snorted, his eyes slowly lingered down your neck and to your decolletage.

You ignored his wandering eyes, despite the warmth it built up in your core, and contested.

“They’re here all the time. Unlike you, you’re a new face”, you teased, raising an eyebrow.

He choked on his drink, stifling a laugh, trying not to break his stoic, mysterious facade.

“I don’t exactly get a lot of time to celebrate, you know, with the war,” he smirked, the eye contact practically melting you onto the sticky bar floor.

“Pardon me, sir.” You cooed, fluttering your lashes, laying it on heavily, “How could I forget, it’s not like I work at a clone bar or anything”.

You’re not sure what set it off for him, but an animalistic look devoured his amber eyes.

He leant towards you, a low growl building in his chest. Not sure if you should be scared or aroused, you submitted to him, right in front of the entire bar. Surely he just wanted you close so you could hear him over the noise of the bar, right? His rough, gloved hands caressed your chin oh-so softly as he brought his face closer to yours. His warm breath fanned over your face, a hot blanket of desire beginning to suffocate you. You felt yourself grow wet, his eyes so close to yours. Maker, he put the man in commando.

He broke your gaze, bringing his lips to your ear, “Listen here,” he whispered, his abrasive voice making love to your ear, “You’re going to give me your commlink number,” he demanded, “you’re going to go home early tonight, you’re going to shower and get into your prettiest number, and you’re going to get comfortable in your bed. I’m going to comm you, you will pick up, and you will give me your name.” The last words slowly trickled out of his lips, fading into the background noise of the bar.

Maker, you had practically soaked through your panties. They were just as wet as the front of your top from earlier. You needed him.

“...and I’m going to give you 10 credits for another one of those fancy Chandrillan whiskeys”. The rough pads of his still-gloved fingers maintained the hold they had on your chin, and he brought his lips away from your ear painfully slowly. You swallowed, not knowing what to do with yourself. Your core burning with arousal, your thighs rubbed together uncontrollably. His face was still close enough to yours that you were practically sharing the same breaths. His scar was so intimidating, yet so charming this close.

“Look at you, mesh’la, in knots for me”, he whispered, maintaining his gaze, “No shiny in this bar has ever had you like this before, has he?”

You shook your head, biting your lip. Any sense of confidence you had now melted away with your utter submission to him. He released his grip from your chin, allowing you to fulfil his demand for another drink.

You hurriedly poured it for him, all of your professionalism gone with your confidence. You scribbled your commlink number on a napkin, and sat both it and the drink down in front of him.

He downed it in one sip, got up from his seat, grabbed his helmet and turned to leave.

“I’ll talk to you later, mesh’la”, he smirked over his shoulder.

Speechless, you mustered up a nod, trying not to embarrass yourself in front of the numerous other troopers at the bar.

“By the way, I saw you looking at my chest. Four-nine-eight-two. Four-thousand, nine hundred and eighty two Geonosians. One for every fallen commando.” His charming voice lingered as he turned and made his way back through the crowd of troopers to find the rest of his squad.

Maker, you practically fainted. He was no shiny at all.

#star wars #star wars fanfic #sev republic commando #clone thirst #star wars the clone wars #star wars tcw #star wars republic commando #clone fanfic #sev x reader #ahsoka show

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clone-anon-after-dark · 5 months

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Watch (Darman Skirata x F!Reader)

Word Count: 880

Warnings: some Dom!Darman, masturbation while he watches, some attention to the boobs, doggie style, unprotected PiV sex, mirror sex, praise, naked reader and mostly clothed (partially armored) Darman, post-sex cuddles, nsfw, younglings be gone

A/N: established relationship. @trixie2023 requested something “hot and slutty” so this is my attempt at that

He met you at the hotel, running toward you, pulling off his helmet, and lips crashing into yours. You could barely hold back a moan after so long apart. You sensed it in him too. He grinned at you as he pulled you into his arms. By the time you’d gotten your key and headed to the room, you only had one thing on your mind. He put his pack down next to your bag. You laid back on the bed and looked up at him. Something had changed. A confidence. While the man you’d fallen in love with was often hesitant, never wanting to push, he knew what he wanted tonight. He put his helmet down, leaned over you, held your chin, and kissed your lips softly.

“Okay if I take charge for a while,” he asked.

“More than okay,” you answered. This was new, but you liked knowing you were the only one who saw this side of him.

“Strip, cyar’ika. I want to see you.” A spark of heat flooded your senses as you complied. You didn’t waste your time. As you slipped out of your panties, he reached forward to hold one of your breasts and rub his thumb over the nipple.

“Start touching yourself,” he said. “I want to see you make yourself good and wet for me.”

“I’m already wet,” you replied as he licked your other nipple. He gazed down your body and left a little kiss next to your ear.

“You can do better than that,” he whispered before moving to stand over you. “Spread your legs and let me see.”

You tried to steady your breath, but it was a challenge. You liked that he wanted to watch. Wanted to see you and your entire body. You laid there on full display, reaching down to gather what wet was already there and spreading it along your folds and encircling your clit. You played with the bundle of nerves and looked up at him. He kept most of his armor only, only removing enough to free his cock. You pleasured yourself as you watched it spring from its confines. You looked up into his eyes. His smile filled with both love and lust.

“That’s it,” he hummed. “Get that cunt nice and ready for me.”

You felt yourself getting closer and closer. “Darman, I…”

He simply nodded and smiled. He stepped forward and lazily rubbed his length on your tits. He enjoyed the soft sensation. You came, moaning out as waves of pleasure hit you.

As you came down from that high, you noticed his leaking cock and all you wanted was for that to be inside you, stretching you, filling you.

“I want you,” you said, still catching your breath.

“Show me how you want me to have you,” he said, kissing you. “How do you want me to take you, pretty girl?”

You looked around the room and kneeled on an armchair, facing the back of the chair and giving him complete access. There was a mirror along the wall, perfect for both of you to watch. You watched him position himself behind you, still mostly clothed. He held your hips steady and entered you fully. He groaned at the sensation of your wet heat taking him. You watched him in the mirror, but he was content to look down, watching his cock slide in and out of you. He caught a glimpse of you watching him in the mirror. He picked up the pace and reached forward to fondle your tits.

“So good for me,” he said. You could only softly moan in reply. You both got lost in the sensation of each other as you closed your eyes. All you could feel was him. You arched your back further, allowing him to go deeper. You opened your eyes and looked at him in the mirror. He looked back at you with a smile and gentle squeeze of each nipple.

“Need more,” he asked. You nodded and whimpered. He slowed down a bit and kissed you between your shoulder blades before removing one of his gloves with his teeth. He wrapped his arm around your waist, both holding you closer to him and allowing his fingers to play with your clit. He leaned forward and kissed your shoulder while taking you. It didn’t take long before you came hard. You weren’t sure what noises you were making. It was all a blur. Darman continued to work your body, eeking out every ounce of pleasure he could. You were still panting when he groaned and grunted, twitching inside you and painting your walls.

Your legs were shaking. Darman picked you up and laid you in bed. He lazily took off the rest of his armor and body glove, looking down at you adoringly the entire time.

“Oh, now you’re naked,” you said playfully as he joined you in bed.

He shrugged. “Thought I might see what it’s like to keep something on. As long as you didn’t mind.”

“I didn’t,” you replied softly. “I just wanted to be with you.”

“You have me,” he answered. “You always have.”

He pulled you closer into his arms and kissed your forehead. You closed your eyes and let your body melt against his.

Tagging: @staycalmandhugaclone @dukeoftheblackstar

#darman skirata x reader #darman skirata x f!reader #darman skirata x afab reader #darman skirata #republic commando fan fiction #clone commando darman skirata #star wars #tcw fanfiction #reader insert #x reader #clone thirsting #darman anon

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rare-clone-fic-exchange · 7 months

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Can't Fight This Feeling

HI! This is @sunshinesdaydream here with a Fixer fic for @sev-on-kamino I hope you enjoy this bit of Fixer fluff! And thanks because I'm now simping for an adjacent clone.

Title: Can't Fight This Feeling Pairing: Fixer x GN!Reader Warnings: Kissing, Fluff Summary: Fixer and Reader's first kiss Word Count: 1009 Inspired by: the first kiss prompt list, squishes several together. and this song "Can't Fight This Feeling"-REO Speedwagon

Divider by @djarrex

You knew they had returned from the mission. Had even already gotten a preliminary list of equipment that would need possible repair or replacement. Eventually Fixer would make his way to the bay in which you did repairs on the gear the various squads used. He always did.

In the beginning he was suspicious. How could a natborn be qualified enough to maintain their gear? Especially since the men themselves took care of the basics. After they were debriefed they were sent to drop the gear that needed repair or replacement with you.

“What are your qualifications?” He asked bluntly as he set his gear on the counter.

“Fixer! You can’t just ask people what their qualifications are!” Scorch had joked immediately with a wink in your direction.

“They can ask me anything they want, anytime,” Sev said, with a smirk.

“Specialized school from the time I was twelve standard until I was eighteen. Trade school until I was twenty-two standard, where I achieved multiple awards on my work. Then two years working with my planet’s military until it was absorbed into the GAR half a standard year ago. During which I have received three commendations.” You list off as you pick up an ascension cable with a compromised latch. “By my rough estimate that means I have been officially learning and winning awards in my field for as long as you have been alive. And we are not even counting the years I spent as a child learning my craft from my grandmother and father. So if you feel the need to question my abilities I assume I should also feel the need to question yours?”

Scorch snickered at that, “they told you, Fixer,” with a little wave he and the other two left, leaving the man behind with you.

Rolling your eyes you put the cable in the repair bin and move on to the next piece of equipment.

“That piece is beyond repair,” he said, still wearing his helmet.

You swore in your native tongue before answering, “feel free to put it to the test when you get this unit back. Until then, if you have a problem with me, take it up with the chain of command.” You are already inspecting and sorting the next piece of gear. “That should keep you tied up enough that I can actually do my job”

Fixer stood in the repair bay with his helmet on for more than an hour watching you until you looked up once to see he had disappeared.

After each mission debrief he showed up after that, whether his equipment was damaged or not. The next time he very quietly asked, “Do you mind if I watch?”

You shrug, “Sure, if it makes you feel better” before going about your work. Fixer stood quietly, helmet on, against the wall watching.

The third time he asked the same, and after about an hour of watching asked a few questions about what you were working on.

Eventually he stopped asking if he could stay and took his helmet off. Edging closer to your workbench. The first time he leaned against your workbench he asked, “do you enjoy your work?”

You pause, ”I guess, I don’t know. It’s just what I do. Haven’t done anything else. I like fixing things, making sure people are safe,”

Fixer nodded and continued watching you with few other questions that day.

You began seeing him more between missions. He would wander in and watch you work, your conversations expanding. You began asking him what he could tell you about his squad, then planets his missions were on.

You look forward to his visits, the somewhat reserved smile that tugs at his lips while his eyes sparkle with hidden humor.

Eventually the realization that he has your heart strikes you. Not that anything could be done. It was against regulations for clones to have established romantic relationships. Not that it stopped many of them. It was overlooked for the most part in favor of better morale. But Fixer. By the book Fixer would never consider it and you couldn’t bring yourself to ask him to. If the only capacity you could have him was this, you would take it.

Fixer always went to be debriefed after every mission. It was what was supposed to happen, so he always did. So you were surprised when shortly after the alert that their ship had touched down he rushed into your work bay.

Ripping his helmet off and dropping it he strode right up to you, grabbing you by the waist with one hand and pulling you closer while grabbing your chin to tilt your face up to his.

“Wha, Fixer? Are you sure about this?” You gasped.

“Never been more sure about anything,” he said, leaning in and his lips barely brushing yours. Then with a stuttered breath he pulled you to himself and into an overwhelming kiss. You clung to his armor, feeling the scratches and scuffs under your palms assuring you that this was real.

After several long moments he pulled back, cradling your face in his still gloved hands.

“Thought this was against regulations,” you say, looking up at him.

“Kark regulations,” he nearly growled, kissing you again.

You pull back, “who are you and what have you done with my Fixer?”

He grinned, “Yours?”

You stammer, unable to form a thought to answer with. He nuzzles against you, “I would like that, would you be mine too?”

Fighting back tears of emotion you answer, “only if you kiss me again.” With another grin, he does.

A whistle sounded from the doorway, partnered with a “This couldn’t wait until after the debrief?” From Sev.

“No,” Fixer said shortly before returning to kissing you.

“Leave him alone, Sev. He’s finally loosening up!” Scorch answered.

“We still need to get to the debrief,” Boss pointed out.

Then Scorch was grabbing Fixer by the back of his armor, towing him away. “You can get back to your cyar’ika later, work now,” he said cheerfully.

#rare clone fic exchange #rare clone fic submission #clone wars fanfiction #republic commando #repcomm #commando fixer #fixer x reader #tcw fixer x reader #commando fixer x you #reader insert #x reader

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dystopicjumpsuit · 10 months

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Turn It Up When You're Gone (3/? - Kriff it, it's a series now)

This is just straight smut, friends. Absolute filth. There is no plot to be found. If you want to know more context, I recommend starting here, and then reading this.

Rating: Mature/18+/Minors DNI

Pairing: Sev x Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 2.1k

Summary: Sev is a connoisseur of cake, and he's just getting started.

Warnings: SMUT; voice kink; body worship; erotic massage; rimming/ass play; masturbation

Start here | Previous chapter | Masterlist | Join my tag list here

Sev breathes hard as you slide your hand down his body. You feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek, feel his harsh gasps against your hair. His hips flex against you as you stroke his erection through the body glove. Before you can explore much further, though, his hand settles over yours, bringing your movements to a halt.

“Oh, darling,” he says, his voice a deep rumble against your ear. “Did you think I was finished with you? I’m just getting started.”

He brings your hand to his mouth and presses his lips to your wrist, then, holding you securely in his strong arms, he rises from the floor, lifting you with him. He notices the way your legs tremble as you stand, and he supports you with an arm wrapped around your waist as he guides you to your bunk. The backs of your knees collide with the edge of the bed, and he lowers you gently onto the mattress.

He straddles you, looming over you, and you have the odd thought that you should feel smothered or claustrophobic under his bulk, but instead you feel… safe. Protected. He touches you with astonishing gentleness, as though you are something precious and fragile. His fingers are warm against your skin as he trails them softly across your cheek, down your neck, across your collarbone. He slides his hand beneath your head as he leans forward to kiss you.

His lips taste like you, and you’re a little startled by how much you like it. As Sev pins you to the bed, he overwhelms your senses until all you can see is his eyes, and all you can taste is his tongue, and all you can feel is the slide of his hands against you, and all you can smell is his skin, and all you can hear is his deep, deep voice as he groans against your lips. His kiss lights up your entire body, and almost unconsciously, you roll your pelvis against him, desperate for stimulation. His strong, thick thighs hold you in place, though, and only allow you the tiniest range of motion. You wrap your arms around him and dig your fingers into the muscles of his back, and he lets out a growl of pleasure that makes your skin prickle in response.

“Kark me, your mouth is enough to make me believe in god,” he says as he finally breaks the kiss. “Your lips are so soft, and oh, fuck, that tongue.”

“You should see what else my tongue can do,” you whisper. You draw one hand around his body and reach for the autofastener of his body glove. “Let me just—”

He grabs your wrist and pins it to the bed. You snap your eyes to his, startled.

“Not yet, little one,” he says.

You give your wrist a little tug, and he releases you immediately.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks.

“No,” you say. “I liked it.”

He sucks in a breath, and his pupils flare, consuming the clear amber of his eyes in their inky depths.

“Did you?” he asks, his voice dropping to an even deeper register, and fuck, you could just close your eyes and listen to him talk for hours. “Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind for next time. But I have plans for you tonight.”

“What kind of plans?” you ask.

You don’t realize you’ve caught your bottom lip between your teeth until Sev fixes his intent gaze on your mouth. You release your lip, and he strokes his thumb across it. Remembering what he’d said in his recording, you swipe the tip of your tongue over the pad of his thumb. He slips it into your mouth, and you scrape your teeth over it gently. He withdraws his hand and rests it softly across your throat as he lowers his mouth to yours in an all-consuming kiss. He holds you lightly; not hard enough to cut off your circulation or breathing, but firm enough that you can feel your blood pulsing against him, and the lightheadedness makes all your sensations feel even more overwhelming.

You whimper as you try again to lever your hips up off the mattress and into him. You can feel the rigid length of his cock pressing against your body, but he holds back, and you can feel what that self-control costs him in the tensity of his muscles.

“Please, Sev,” you gasp. “I want you so badly.”

He drags his mouth down your neck and chest, and then—FUCK! He bites your breast. Not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough to karking hurt.

“What the hell?” you demand indignantly, before releasing a soft, pleasurable, “Ohhh.”

His tongue glides over the painful mark, the gentle heat soothing the ache and sending waves of pleasure lapping across your skin. Your hands rise unbidden to his head, and you tease your fingers through his curls.

“Too much?” he asks.

“No,” you reply, a little uncertainly.

“I won’t do it again unless you want me to,” he says.

“I think I do,” you confess. “But maybe work up to it next time.”

“As you wish,” he says, dropping one final, light kiss onto your breast. He shifts his weight so he’s no longer pinning you to the mattress, and with a single dexterous movement, he flips you over onto your belly. “Kriffing hell, you have an incredible ass.”

His tone falls somewhere between lust and awe, and you feel his strong hands sweep up the back of your thighs and onto your ass, his fingers kneading into the flesh and muscle. He works his hands over you in long, languid strokes, massaging your hips, thighs, lower back, and buttocks with a hypnotically relaxing thoroughness, and you let out an involuntary moan as your eyes flutter closed in bliss.

Sev slides his palms firmly up your back and in between your shoulders, rubbing circles into the muscles, and then working his way back down. When his hands reach your ass, you feel the subtle rasp of his facial hair scrape against your skin as his mouth descends on you. He kisses and licks and nibbles his way across your buttocks, and his fingers tease your entrance.

You shift to give him better access, and with a deep growl, he grabs you by the hips and lifts you until you’re on your knees before him, face pressed into your pillow as he buries his mouth in you. He swirls his tongue over your clit, and then dives into your cunt as his hot breath fans against your ass, and holy mother of the Force, the noises he makes are intoxicating. His grunts vibrate against your tender skin, making you squirm with pleasure. He devours you like a man starved, and soon his fingers slide between your labia as he works his mouth backward toward the smooth, sensitive ring of your anus. He flicks his tongue over you, and your body lurches away reflexively as you let out a guttural curse. Sev freezes, then starts to pull away, but you press back against him.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” you say raggedly, and that is all he needs to hear.

He snakes one arm around your thighs and pulls you firmly against his face as his other hand continues to work your cunt, stretching you out and circling your clit with purposeful strokes. You hear him rumble with pleasure as he explores your ass with his mouth, and just when you think he couldn’t possibly take you to a higher point of ecstasy, he slides his tongue into you, and you shatter with a hoarse scream.

Sev clamps his strong arm around your thighs and pins you against him, ruthlessly tongue-fucking you through your orgasm and not stopping until you are a twitching, sobbing mess. When at last he pulls away from you, he crawls up the bed and lies down on his side, drawing your back up against his solid warmth as he kisses your shoulder and strokes his hand across your limbs in a calming rhythm.

You shudder almost uncontrollably in his embrace, but then you realize that he is still wearing that damned body glove, and you twist yourself around to face him.

“Take this off,” you murmur, trailing your fingertips across his chest. “I want to see you.”

He hesitates, not meeting your eyes. “I don’t think that’s a great idea.”

“Why not?” you ask, confused.

“I’ve been wearing this thing for three days. I’ve been in debriefings all day. I didn’t have time to shower.”

You blink. “Sev, you just had your tongue in my ass, and you’re worried about how you smell?”

“Of the two of us, I’m the only one who’s smelled both, and I can tell you, your ass is better. Trust me, babydoll. You don’t want me to take this thing off.”

You try to cajole him, but he is adamant.

“If you want a shower, why don’t you just use my refresher?” you ask at last.

He has not stopped caressing your limbs, but his hand pauses its progress at your offer, and something vulnerable and confused flickers in his eyes.

“Your refresher?” he repeats as though he doesn’t understand the question.

“Unless you don’t want to, of course. No pressure,” you say, hoping that you’re not putting him on the spot.

“No, it’s not that,” he says. “It’s just, nobody has ever—I’ve only ever used the communal showers before.”

You remember the bleak austerity of the clone barracks you saw in the short clip of Sev’s helmet feed, and you swallow down your guilt and rage at the shittiness of the hand that’s been dealt to these brave, extraordinary men.

“You can use mine any time you want,” you offer impulsively.

He is quiet for a moment, eyes roaming over your face, looking for something only he knows. Finally, he nods. “Thanks. I’ll make it quick.”

“Take as long as you need. I’m not going anywhere,” you say. He rises and crosses to your small refresher, but before he goes inside, you add, “If you toss your body glove out, I’ll run it through my sonic washer for you.”

“Thanks,” he says after a pause.

Sev looks curiously around your small refresher. It’s cramped and plain, but the idea of having a private refresher all to himself seems an unfathomable luxury. Everywhere he looks, he sees small glimpses into your life. The room is scrupulously clean, and there’s no hint of the dank smells of mildew and body odor that pervade every communal refresher he’s ever used. He performs a quick recon of the wall cabinet and finds your toothbrush and other toiletry items, as well as a bewildering assortment of mysterious small jars and vials.

Not wanting to take too long and arouse suspicion, he strips out of his blacks and cracks open the door to drop them outside. Your offer to wash his blacks had been an even bigger surprise than your willingness to share your refresher, and to be frank, he hadn’t been sure how to respond. His first instinct had been to refuse—it was too intimate a task to expect of someone he’d just met, even if his tongue had been inside you mere minutes before. But you had offered willingly, and the prospect of showering only to have to put back on the filthy garment had convinced him.

He steps into your shower, and the water turns on automatically. He stretches his neck under the hot spray, willing the tense muscles in his neck and shoulders to relax. He is exhausted. Delta squad’s mission hadn’t been any worse than usual, but it had still been three grueling days of fighting. Still, it had been worth powering through his fatigue to feel your warm, soft body beneath him.

His cock is still achingly hard, and the sensation of his slippery hands as he soaps up is almost too much for him. He would take care of himself right now, if you weren’t waiting on the other side of that door. Maybe it’s not such a bad idea—rub out a quick one so he can last longer with you.

Your soap isn’t the harsh, medicinal-smelling kind issued by the GAR. It smells fresh and clean, and he recognizes the scent from your skin. He leans his head against the shower wall, imagining it’s your hands working his cock, that it’s your skin he smells, and not just your soap. He knows you are waiting for him, so he picks up the pace, jerking himself in a tight, frantic grip. He is close, so fucking close, when he hears a soft knock. He freezes, eyes going wide.

“Sev?” he hears you call. “Want some company?”

---

Masterlist

I am physically incapable of letting Sev get off. What is wrong with me? I promise, the next chapter will finally be his time to shine.

Taglist: @secondaryrealm @blueink-bluesoul @spicy-clones @wings-and-beskar @523rdrebel @goblininawig @merkitty49 @anxiouspineapple99

Also tagging @pb-jellybeans because it seemed like you might be interested in a follow-up.

#rc 1207 #sev x reader #repcomm fanfic #delta squad fanfic #delta squad #repcomm #republic commando #clone commando smut #clone commando #sev x you #dystopicjumpsuit writes

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kaminocasey · 11 months

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The Difference (Part One)

Summary: Mereel tries to get Ordo laid, but doesn't expect to fall for the same girl that Ordo does.

Pairing: Ordo x Reader x Mereel (No Cl*necest)

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Flirting, Drinking, Suggestive language, Protective/Possessive Ordo and Mereel.

WC: 2.7K

A/N: Okay I've been tweaking this for DAYS. I'm just gonna go ahead and post it. There's definitely going to be a part two.

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“What about her?” Mereel gestures toward you as you sit up at the bar, working on your datapad, not paying any sort of attention to your surroundings.

Ordo would never say it out loud, but you’re unsettlingly beautiful. Like you’d stepped right out of some sort of painting.

“She looks busy.” Ordo shakes his head, unable to look away from you.

“Yeah, but osik… she’s mesh’la.” Mereel knocks his elbow into Ordo’s side.

This was their first night in a long time where they weren’t running mission after mission for Kal’buir or the GAR. Mereel was ready to blow off some steam, and he was determined to help his brother in the process.

“Just follow my lead, vod.” Mereel ushers Ordo along in your direction. “Excuse me, miss.”

“I’m busy.” You mutter, not looking up from your scrolling.

“I can see that. It’s just that my brother here saw you from across the room and he wants to buy you a drink.” Mereel leans against the bar, trying to showcase his most charming smile he could give.

You look up, expecting some douchey jerkwad but instead are met with two handsome clones from the GAR. You glance at Mereel but he nods in Ordo’s direction, still smiling.

“He couldn’t offer to buy me a drink, himself?” You grin at Ordo.

“Oh. I apologize-” Ordo starts.

You chuckle and click your datapad off, turning toward him. “I’m teasing. You guys are welcome to sit, if you’d like.”

“We’d like that very much. I’m Mereel. This is-” Mereel starts but you cut him off.

“Let him tell me himself.” You wink at Mereel, who unexpectedly goes warm in the face. “What’s your name?”

“O-Ordo, ma’am.” Ordo nods, going warm all over.

“Pleased to meet you, Ordo.” You continue smiling, unable to help yourself. “And you, Mereel.”

Mereel orders the drinks from the bartender when she passes by, handing her some credits. She gives a flirty smile to Mereel, but he seemingly doesn’t notice, only able to keep his eyes glued to your beautiful smile. He really intended to help Ordo tonight, but if Ordo’s okay with it, maybe they can both enjoy your company for the evening.

“Are you from around here?” Mereel asks.

“I am, actually.” You nod, crossing your legs, making your skirt go up a little further.

Both Mereel and Ordo take notice. They also can’t help the tightening of their pants.

“Do you have a significant other?” Mereel asks. You laugh. “I do not. Why?”

“Making sure we don’t have any competition.” Mereel places his arm behind you on the bartop.

“Is that right?” You laugh, turning toward Ordo. “Are you two better than any other man in this bar?”

Ordo glances at Mereel who’s just smirking at you.

“For once, I’m gonna have to agree with my brother.” Ordo finally smiles, sheepishly.

You’re completely stunned by Ordo’s smile. You’re aware that he and Mereel are clones and look almost exactly the same, but despite the scars, you can already tell the difference between the two. Ordo is more shy and unsure, whereas Mereel is absolutely sure of himself. And somehow, you’re completely taken in by both men. This is a first for you.

A loud group of women come in, who are clearly having some sort of bachelorette party, and start to get rowdy up by the bar, shouting their drink orders. You notice a few of the women already eyeing the two men on either side of you.

You look at Ordo and Mereel as you put your datapad in your bag and grab it. “Do you guys possibly want to get out of here?”

Ordo looks at Mereel for confirmation, and Ordo doesn’t even miss a beat, nodding to his brother that he was game for whatever was about to happen with you.

“We would love to, mesh’la.” Mereel offers his arm and you take it, smiling at both men, who escort you out of the bar.

You’re not sure what mesh’la means but damn, if you don’t love the way he says it. You’re just hoping it’s not some sort of insult.

“Are you boys hungry?” You ask, knowing that they were probably expecting to go back to your place.

“We’re always hungry.” Ordo finally seems to relax, smiling down at you.

“Well, lucky for you boys, there’s a great diner around the corner.” You pull away from Mereel to lead the way.

Ordo and Mereel share a look. Ordo’s says “Wow this girl is something.” and Mereel’s says “I think I’m in love.” Both men are already excited to see what else is in store for the night.

When you reach the diner, you sit in the round booth in the back corner, in between Ordo and Mereel. As they look over the menu, you can’t help but watch both of them. Mereel seems so relaxed, with his arm around you on the back of the booth, while Ordo’s not completely rigid, but you think he seems uneasy, nervous even. Both are completely endearing and you can’t help but feel tingly all over.

The server droid rolls over quickly to take your orders and then scurries away behind the counter. You’d been coming here since you were a kid, and you knew the owner well enough.

“What do you do for work?” Ordo asks you.

“I work in cyber security at the Senate Dome.” You tell them, quietly.

Ordo looks up at Mereel. He’s pretty sure they’re sharing the same thought.

It could be useful to be friends with you.

You notice them glancing at each other. But before you can ask what their looks are about, the server droid comes back out with your drinks. You take your cup of caf and add your slightly excessive amount of cream and sugar.

“Do you even like caf?” Mereel teases, smirking down at you, sipping his black.

“Excuse me. Just because I need a little sweetness added to it, doesn’t make me any lesser of a caf drinker than you Mr. Straight Black Caf.” You grin, eyeing Mereel’s cup, and then look over at Ordo, who adds one cream and one sugar. “Are you only doing that to make me not feel bad?”

“He is.” Mereel says at the same time that Ordo says “No.”

You laugh and watch Ordo take a sip. He starts to make a face, like he’s bracing for it to be too sweet, but then all of a sudden, makes a relatively delighted face. Or at least you think it’s a face of delight. It could just be tolerance.

“It’s not bad, Mereel.” Ordo shrugs, making Mereel shake his head, amused.

“Want to try some?” You hold out a sweetener packet to Mereel and he puts his hand over his mug.

“No, thank you.” He smiles.

“That’s fine. Stick to your bitterness.” You tease.

“I think I will, I prefer other sweet things…” Mereel winks and you go warm all the way from your ears to your core.

“So, you work at the Senate Dome.” Ordo says and you nod, sipping your caf. “Do you like it?”

You shrug. “It’s a job.”

Honestly, it wasn’t a terrible job. There were moments where you wondered if it was something you really want to stick with forever, though.

“Anything exciting ever happen?” Mereel asks.

You shrug. “Eh. A couple things. Like, the Separatists like to send mercenaries every now and then to cause chaos. Or when we have to go into lockdowns because of threats against the chancellor’s life.”

“Do you… like the chancellor?” Ordo asks and when you look at him, he’s looking up at Mereel with a strange look.

“I mean…” You watch as Mereel who’d been clearly glaring at Ordo above your head, looks down at you with a sweet smile. “I’m not really a fan. But what can you do?”

You mindlessly swirl your stirring spoon in your caf as you look between them.

“I’ve never been asked that before, you know.” You tell Ordo, tilting your head. He sips his caf, looking around. “Do you normally ask that on a first date?”

Ordo immediately sputters over his mug and your eyes widen as Mereel starts to crack up.

“Are you alright?” You quickly put your caf down and pat him on the back.

Ordo coughs, nervously. “I’m- I’m sorry.”

“He’s not been out in a while. You’ll have to excuse my brother.” Mereel teases Ordo, who’s still trying to control his slight cough.

When Ordo realizes you're touching him, he goes warm in the face and makes a face of someone clearly embarrassed, so you stop.

“Sorry.” You murmur.

“Don’t be.” Ordo shakes his head.

“So, what do you guys do in the GAR?” You ask Mereel, trying to change the subject to avoid embarrassing Ordo, or yourself, any further.

“We’re commandos.” Mereel answers, sipping his caf.

“And what do commandos do?” You ask, curiously.

Your lack of knowledge on the army will probably send these men running.

“We do pretty much anything. Hard jobs. Easy missions. We’re who you call when you need stealth and precision.” Ordo answers.

“My knowledge of the army is very little, unfortunately. I apologize.” You tell them just as the server droid with your food on a large tray arrives.

Ordo passes Mereel his plates, then yours, and then grabs his own.

“Don’t be sorry.” Mereel pats your knee and a jolt of electricity jolts through your leg and you find yourself leaning toward him slightly.

He definitely notices and keeps his hand there, smirking down at you. You’re about to tease him about it when you hear a familiar, yet annoying, voice say your name from across the diner.

“Oh great…” You mutter under your breath.

A concerned Mereel and Ordo follow your gaze as a tall, blond man approaches your table, glancing at the two cloned men with a certain distaste.

“Hello, Jax.” You sigh, trying your best to hide your own distaste for the man in front of you.

Jax is one of your coworkers, who works across the hall from you. He works in a bigger branch of cyber security for Galactic City. He’s normally incredibly flirty with you and doesn’t like to take no for an answer.

“What are you doing here this late?” Jax asks you.

“Having dinner with some friends.” You tell him.

“Ah. I see.” Jax puts on a fake smile and reaches his hand out to Ordo, who doesn’t take it and then starts to extend it to Mereel, who just shakes his head with a slightly scrunched face, discouraging Jax.

Clearly slightly embarrassed, Jax puts his hands in his pockets.

“Well, after you’re done here, maybe you could swing by my place?” Jax grins at you.

Mereel’s hand tightens on your knee, reassuringly and it actually puts you at ease.

“No, that’s alright.” You shake your head, honestly impressed by the gall on this man.

You’re clearly having dinner with two other, incredibly handsome, and slightly intimidating men. Was Jax actually trying this right now?

“Oh, come on, doll.” Jax nods toward the door. “Why don’t-”

Mereel cuts him off, noticing Ordo’s rigid manor and solid glare at Jax’s presence. “Jax, do you like your teeth?”

“Huh?” Jax, visibly confused, looks between Mereel and Ordo.

“Answer the question, Jax.” Ordo leans back in the seat, bringing his cup of caf to his lips as he glares at your coworker.

You notice Ordo’s leg rest against yours and you aren’t exactly sure why these men you barely know are being so protective, but something inside of you tells you they’re trustworthy and that they won’t let anything happen to you. It makes your chest feel warm.

“I- yes?” Jax answers.

“Then, if you want to keep them, I suggest you keep moving.” Mereel smirks.

Jax starts to back away, clearly unnerved. You don’t feel bad, though. You get the ick anytime he comes near you, and you’re tired of dealing with him.

“And don’t bother her again.” Ordo warns him. “Understand?”

Jax nods as he turns to leave the diner. Only when he walks out the door, do you let out a breath of relief that you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding in.

“Are you alright?” Mereel asks you, softly.

You nod. “That was… you guys are… scary.”

They seem slightly alarmed that you said that but you start giggling nervously.

“Wow. You guys should come to work with me sometime. Scare some of the other guys I work with.” You grin at both of them.

Mereel and Ordo both chuckle as you all start to eat, relaxing into easy conversation. It’s the best time any of you have had in an incredibly long time. As you eat, and even when you finish, they share humorous stories of growing up with their adoptive father, Kal, and their other brothers A’den, Prudii, Kom’rk, and Jaing. They ask about your family as well, and things you like to do in your free time you rarely ever have. It’s almost scary how easy it is with these two intimidating commandos.

“...and then because Jaing dared him to, A’den set the entire lab on fire.” Mereel recalls as he and Ordo laugh.

You can’t help but laugh along. You’ve never had such stimulating conversation in your life. It’s actually incredibly refreshing to talk to two men who aren’t incredibly disgusting and misogynistic.

“If you actually would like for us to come by your work sometime, we’d be happy to, wouldn’t we, Ordo?” Mereel asks.

“I actually would love that.” You grin, pulling out a piece of paper and writing your comm channel and work info on it.

Ordo takes it and sticks it in his pocket, grinning at you. His smile is genuinely so bright and so warm, it goes all the way to your toes.

“Can I… ask a question?” You ask, softly.

“Of course, mesh’la.” Mereel encourages you.

“Okay two questions actually.” You laugh. “What does mesh’la mean?” “It means ‘beautiful’.” Mereel answers you.

The warm feeling spreads throughout your entire body and you can’t help but feel slightly flustered. “You think I’m beautiful?” “We both do.” Ordo speaks up.

With a slight confidence, you reach over and kiss Mereel on the cheek and then Ordo.

Mereel pulls you gently by your chin back toward him and your stomach starts to flutter uncontrollably. “What was your second question, sweetheart?”

“Would you both want to go home with me tonight?” You ask him.

Mereel lets go of your chin and before you can ask if everything is okay, he loudly, but still politely asks for the check from the server droid, making you laugh.

Ordo tosses a handful of credits onto the table. “I’ll run back to the bar and get the speeder.”

“Be quick.” You tease, then squeeze his hand and before you can pull it away, he brings it to his lips.

“Yes, ma’am.” He smiles before disappearing outside the door.

Mereel grabs your jacket and bag for you, following you out of the booth, guiding you to the door by your lower back. His hand placement does something to your insides that it’s never done with anyone else.

When you get outside, you see Ordo pull up.

“That was fast.” You compliment Ordo as Mereel lets you sit in the front seat while he hops in the back.

Ordo grins at you and this time he confidently places his hand on your thigh, making you go warm all over again for the umpteenth time tonight. Flustered, you give him directions to your apartment, which is thankfully, only a few short blocks from the bar.

Nerves start to flow as you realize that you’re taking two men home with you for the first time ever. Normally, you would absolutely never do this… but with both of these incredible men… how could you choose? And if they’re willing to share, even better, right?

#Mereel Skirata #Ordo Skirata #Republic Commando #Republic commando series #Mereel skirata x reader #ordo skirata x reader #x reader

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wanderinginksplot · 5 months

Text

Refuge Chapter Seven

You have a little time to kill before your first mission. Delta Squad has very different ideas of how you should spend it.

Continued slow burn Delta Squad x fem!reader

Word Count: 6,600

Warnings: feelings of alienation, mentions of lack of money, misunderstandings, light discussion of weapons and battle tactics, slight embarrassment.

Previous | Next | Masterlist

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When Scorch had mentioned finding a fun way to spend time planetside, he had apparently meant it literally. He and Sev walked you to the front entrance to the Temple and unceremoniously led the way outside.

Scorch had already started walking away, chattering about places he enjoyed, when you stepped through the towering doors. You paused when you were out, taking a moment to adjust to the differences between what you were used to and what you actually found on Coruscant.

To be fair, those differences were hardly surprising. Coruscant was densely populated and heavily polluted. The outside air wouldn’t feel fresh, cool and faintly scented with pine needles like you were accustomed to on Voubos. But you were never ready for the hot, semi-stagnant waft tinged with the exhaust of innumerable speeders flying overhead.

More than the disappointing atmosphere, Coruscant was overwhelming, so bright your eyes stung to look around. Voubos could be noisy and had its fair share of sunshine, but there were no trees to shelter you from it here. The street outside the Jedi Temple was one of the few that hadn’t been choked by buildings, and it left the sun beating down on the duracrete expanse where you stood. The vicious light was blocked only by the occasional shadow of a speeder passing overhead, like a less-pleasant version of the clouds that performed the same function back home.

And none of it was silent. The speeder engines were noisy, the people were noisy. Everything was undercut by the rumble of far-off machinery and the drone of hovering screens broadcasting the most recent Senate debate. It was loud enough that you almost didn’t register the sound of someone speaking directly to you.

“What’s wrong?”

Sev’s harsh voice managed to cut through the stimuli surrounding you. You shook your head. “I’m still getting used to all of this..”

“You came here from the GAR headquarters,” he countered, frowning. “And you tailed us from there again today.”

“Commander Gree brought us in a transport the first time and I was too scared to see anything more than a blur,” you explained, still transfixed by the chaos surrounding you. “When I found you earlier, I was focused. I had something to get done. And now…”

“Now, you don’t have a mission to concentrate on,” Sev summarized.

You grimaced. “Exactly. I’m sorry, I know I must seem… I’m sorry.”

Sev shook his head. “Remind me later and I’ll tell you about my first time on a planet other than Kamino.”

“Why not now?” you asked.

“First, I don’t want to scare you,” he said ominously. Then he nodded behind you. “Second, we’re about to have company.”

Before you could wonder about the second part of that, Scorch came jogging up to the two of you. “What’s going on? I thought you were following me.”

“Just taking a minute to look around,” Sev told him.

“We’ve all been here before, Sev,” Scorch reminded, exasperation in his face and voice. “No need to play tour guide.”

Sev - standing slightly behind you - must have made some kind of face at Scorch, who abruptly changed his stance. “Or, I suppose there might be a little need to play tour guide. But I’m the much better choice for it.”

He beckoned you closer and you obligingly followed him to the edge of one of the regular gaps that provided entrance to the lower levels. Scorch gestured toward it, though it was partially hidden behind the utilitarian fences that kept passers-by from getting too close. “Do you know what’s down there?”

With a smile at his hushed, conspiratorial tone, you nodded. “It’s another level. I understand there are five thousand of them.”

“Oh,” Scorch said, seeming to deflate slightly.

Sev laughed at his brother, joining you in staring toward the fence-flanked space. “Five thousand plus a few, but yeah. I take it you did some research about the planet?”

You nodded. “But there are a few things I still don’t really understand.”

“Like what?” Sev asked.

“How do they make sure the levels are tall enough?” you asked, feeling utterly ridiculous. But the question had been bothering you, and this was a good opportunity to get some answers. “Do they just base the height of the ceilings on the tallest known species and go from there? Or are different levels different heights?”

Sev was staring at you blankly, which made you more nervous, but Scorch tipped his head back with a look of understanding. “Ahh, I get it. You’re thinking too small, nattie. Levels aren’t just for beings to walk around on. Each one is big enough to have buildings and speeder lanes and stuff. There’s no need to base them on specific heights.”

“They’re that big?” you asked, feeling suddenly queasy with vertigo. It was strange, fearing heights with your feet planted firmly on the ground, but you were also cognizant of the fact that you were far, far from the surface of the planet itself.

Scorch nodded sagely. “Yep. And each one has more species than you can count calling it home.”

“You good?” Sev asked, fingertips grazing your elbow lightly.

You were gaping, you knew it. When you spoke, your voice was hushed and a little unsteady. “How are there any people left to live on other planets?”

“There are plenty more people in the galaxy,” Sev told you, amusement filling his deep voice. “Trust me, we’re fighting about half of ‘em.”

“You’re just not used to seeing this many life-forms,” Scorch informed you. “This is the most heavily populated planet in the galaxy. Your planet wasn’t anything compared to this.”

You hadn’t thought about Voubos very often since you had started training with the Jedi. Still, it was jarring to hear someone mention it, especially so casually. It made you feel like your life was a statistic, an incidental casualty almost too small to be counted. Not even - your life hadn’t been lost or taken, simply changed. You weren’t even significant enough to be a statistic.

Suddenly, you felt dizzy again, overwhelmed by something so much larger than yourself. But this time, instead of the planet’s population, the feeling had been brought on by the staggering largeness of the war.

The only thing that brought you out of it was an unexpected noise. The sound could only be described as the sound of a plastoid-covered hand striking a plastoid-covered chest. It was followed shortly by a growl from Sev. “Shut up, di’kut.”

“Sorry,” Scorch muttered. “I forgot natties are sentimental about that kind of thing.”

“It’s okay.” They both looked skeptical about your reassurance, but you smiled and changed the subject before they could add anything else. “So, what are we going to do? Did you have a plan for what you want to see today?”

“Whatever you wanna see,” Scorch told you with a shrug. “Explore as much as you want.”

Sev nodded. “We’re only here to make sure you aren’t attacked. Or fall off a building.”

That low opinion of your survival skills aside, you were warmed by the thoughtfulness and started off in a direction you decided looked promising.

The time you spent on Coruscant took on a strange quality. Everything you saw was wonderful, every experience unlike any other you had ever had before. But, looking back, you could hardly catch more than a blur.

You saw shops filled with goods both familiar and utterly mystifying. The streets were packed to bursting with beings, many of them belonging to species you had never seen before. Street performers playing strange instruments tried to entice passers-by to dance while stern, armored troopers ordered them to keep moving.

You couldn't help sneaking a glance at the red and white helmet as you walked past. Both the Republic and the Separatist Alliance had distributed propaganda on Voubos, so they weren't unfamiliar to you. But you hadn't realized how imposing they would be with their blankly watching visors and the blasters strapped to their thigh plates.

With your focus so close on one trooper, you completely missed another standing on the opposite side of the path. Unfortunately, your lack of attention meant that you bumped into him, swiping him with your shoulder.

He didn’t move in the slightest except to look down at you. In contrast, the slight collision had sent you staggering and you offered apologies even as you tried to recover your balance.

“Watch yourself, civilian,” the trooper ordered. You couldn’t see his expression, but his tone managed to be disdainful even through the small speakers of his helmet.

“Didn’t you hear her say ‘sorry’?” Sev asked, his deep voice lashing out from behind you.

“And that’s more than you deserve, di’kut,” Scorch told him dismissively. “Anyone could see it was an accident.”

The trooper bristled, taking an aggressive half-step forward. “Hey, just because you’re-”

“Drop it,” the other trooper advised through the crowd. “Not worth the paperwork.”

The closer trooper looked Scorch and Sev up and down. He didn’t bother including you in that. Seemingly to himself, he muttered, “Commandos.”

“What was that?” Sev asked.

If Sev took things any further, it was going to get physical. If it got physical, Scorch would join in. If Scorch joined in, it would be a brawl. Would you be pulled off of working with Delta Squad if half of them started a brawl with the Coruscant Guard? Instinct told you yes, but the Republic was short-staffed… But you weren’t taking any chances.

“Sorry again,” you called loudly, cutting off whatever else anyone might say. Your push against Scorch’s shoulder wasn’t gentle, but it was effective. Sev was more of a challenge, and you ended up bracing both hands between his shoulder blades and shoving. It wasn’t at all effective, but he let you move him. “We’ll just be on our way!”

The moment you had gotten through the press of the small crowd, Sev let out a string of blistering curses in an unfamiliar language. You watched in something like awe while Scorch gave you an amused look. When Sev had finished, Scorch asked, “Feeling any better?”

“No,” Sev grumbled. “I should have hit him.”

“I don’t think any of us are interested in seeing the inside of a Corrie Guard holding cell,” Scorch said lightly. “What’s next?”

As the second part of that had been directed at you, you glanced around. “I’m not sure. Are either of you getting hungry?”

Sev gave you a look you couldn’t quite figure out until Scorch added, “Always.”

You were, as well. “Well, something smells fantastic! I think it’s coming from over here…”

A nearby stand was offering street food, roasted meat and hunks of bread paired with a variety of sauces for dipping either into. The worker standing there belonged to a species you couldn’t name, though you had seen some of them around. They had a humanoid build with green, leathery skin. Their face had folds and curves that made you think their bone structure was slightly different than that of humans, but similar enough to know that they were offering a polite smile.

“Looking for something in particular?” The low tone and roughness of the worker’s voice made you think they were male, but there was no way to know for sure without asking, and that would have been inexcusably rude.

“It all looks incredible,” you told them, flashing a smile between staring at the array of foods spread out on the stand’s preparation surface.

“Only the best at Kiaba’s.” It was always risky trying to interpret the facial expressions of humanoid species, but from the clear pride that shone from their bearing, you assumed that you were speaking with the very Kiaba who owned the stand.

You wanted to get a closer look at the food, but before you could take more than a step, Scorch had caught at your elbow. He leaned close, and for a wild moment, you thought he was going to kiss your cheek.

He didn’t, of course. His lips ended up a scant distance from your ear instead, keeping Kiaba from overhearing. “We don’t have any credits, and this side of the city isn’t too willing to give their goods away.”

“Especially Klatoonians,” Sev added, half-turning away from Kiaba, who was watching you curiously from behind the stand’s main counter. “The culture believes in the value of hard work, but they take it to extremes. They consider any charity to be stealing someone’s chance to earn something the right way.”

You sent Kiaba a regretful smile. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been informed that we don’t have any credits.”

The professional half-smile that had stretched Kiaba’s lips disappeared in an instant as they scowled. “No handouts.”

“Of course not,” Scorch muttered, definitely loud enough for Kiaba to hear. Their scowl deepened and they leaned forward as if they were half-thinking about jumping over the workstation to beat some sense into an upstart customer.

So you cut in, avoiding Sev's attempt to stop you. "Sorry about the confusion! While we're talking, though, can you tell me what that dish is. The one right… there?"

You gestured to something that looked like a pocket of dough, crimped at the edges, with hints of a warm orange seeping through in certain spots. It looked like a normal piece of dough, other than the spots, but it smelled of deep spices and roasted vegetables.

Kiaba shook their head. "I can't take time outta my day to explain my menu to people who aren't even gonna buy something. I have paying customers."

"Where?" Scorch challenged. "We're the closest thing you have to customers within a five-klick radius!"

To Scorch’s credit, that was true. The area in front of Kiaba’s stand wasn’t empty - the size of the city made that nearly impossible - but no one seemed compelled to look at the food, much less stop.

“Of course you don’t have to talk with us if you’re busy,” you assured. “I just want to understand it to see if I can find something similar in the future when I do have some credits.”

“You’d never find anything like my tisuh,” Kiaba told you, their tone a mixture of irritation and pride. “There are others who make it, but no one who does it as well as I do.”

You nodded, offering an encouraging smile. Kiaba watched you suspiciously before heaving a loud sigh. They beckoned you closer, dishing up one of the dough pockets so you could examine it more closely against the light brown of a simple disposable plate.

“Tisuh is found many places in the galaxy,” they explained. “It is dough wrapped around a filling. There are as many kinds of tisuh as there are people who make it. Everyone has their own recipes, but the best one is found on Klatooine, where I’m from. My forebears have been making this dish for thousands of years, for millions of people. Wherever I am…” Kiaba took a bite of the pale round, showing you the orange-sauced filling inside as they chewed and gave a blissful tilt of their head, “it always reminds me of home.”

The watering of your mouth halted as you wondered what would remind you of Voubos. Everything, you expected, but you still managed a nod for Kiaba. “That’s lovely. I’m happy you have such a strong tie to things that bring you joy.”

“Where’s home for you?” they asked, taking another bite of food.

“Nowhere, not anymore,” you admitted softly. “I’m looking for a new one.”

The green-skinned being finished chewing and watched you silently. You held their gaze, waiting to hear more about their tie to the tisuh or be told to leave, but Kiaba sighed again. They set their half-eaten food aside, deposited two more tisuh onto a new plate, and held it out to you. “You might as well have a full stomach while you look.”

The smile that spread across your face was instant and - you could feel it - delighted. It was nice to be reminded that there were kind and generous beings in the galaxy, no matter how rare they seemed. “Thank you, Kiaba. I appreciate it.”

From behind you, there came the sound of a throat being pointedly cleared. Kiaba rolled their dark eyes. “I guess I can spare a few for your friends.”

“I appreciate that, too,” you told them with a slow nod to show your gratitude. “As do my friends.”

It took a stern look from you to prompt Scorch and Sev into thanks, which were muttered without an ounce of sincerity. Kiaba seemed unconvinced, but the astonishment you felt when you took your first bite of tisuh brought something almost prideful to their expression.

The dough was tender and delicate, falling away to reveal a filling that seemed to be made up of mostly vegetables. They were tender, with just enough variation in texture for you to recognize that the filling had several different kinds of vegetables in it. All of them had been stewed in a thick sauce that was toward the upper limit of your spice tolerance, but the heat was dampened slightly by the coolness of the bready dough that had surrounded the filling.

“This…” you started, pausing for a moment while your brain tried to choose between speech and shoving more food into your mouth. “Kiaba, this is incredible!”

“I know,” Kiaba told you with the closest thing you had seen to a smile on their face.

You returned to inhaling your tisuh. Sev and Scorch were silent, but you could tell that they also liked the food by the speed they were eating. Even so, your plate was the first one empty and you disposed of it in a nearby waste receptacle.

“My apologies for my friends,” you told Kiaba, earning a glare from Scorch. Sev ignored you entirely. “I can see why you were worried about a sudden flood of customers. I’m not sure how you have any tisuh that hasn’t been purchased already, but I thank you for sharing the excess with us. Your kindness is most appreciated.”

Kiaba waved you away. “Been kinda slow today, actually. Lucky for you all.”

Scorch appeared over your shoulder, peering down toward your hands. “Do you have any you’re not going to-? Oh, you’re already finished. You know, most females wouldn’t have been able to eat all of that.”

“Well, most females don’t have Kiaba’s excellent tisuh to motivate them,” you countered. “I think that’s the best thing I’ve ever eaten!”

A dozen or so passersby glanced over at you curiously at the fervent praise. Some came to look at Kiaba’s selection of foods, and you were amused to see that a small line formed as you watched.

Kiaba glanced from the line to you, their dark eyes traveling to Sev next. They pointed a stubby green finger at Scorch and Sev. “You two keep this to yourselves. I’m not running a clone charity. This was a one-time thing. I don’t want to see clones coming around here asking for handouts.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sev muttered while Scorch made a rude gesture behind him. Fortunately, Kiaba was too busy tending to the line to pay much attention to their antics, and you managed to pull the commandos away before they could say anything else.

The three of you walked in silence for a while, but it started to grow uncomfortable. You rubbed your stomach and let out a contented sigh. “That was great.”

Sev nodded. “Better than the usual stuff.”

That made you remember to ask what you should have asked earlier. “So you guys don’t have any credits at all? How do you eat when you’re on Coruscant?”

“GAR mess hall,” Sev told you. “Or there’s a civvie place nearby that gives clones food occasionally. Some sympathizer. Feels bad for us.”

“Oh.” There seemed to be very few responses to that, but you ventured, “Nice?”

“Yeah, but it can get a little old,” Scorch said. “We don’t mind eating the same food over and over - ration bars’ll train you right up for that - but it’s nice to have something different now and then.”

You nodded understandingly. Anyone would get tired of the same food over and over again. “That’s valid. Even if it’s charity, that doesn’t mean you need to want it all the time.”

When Sev spoke, it was so sudden that he interrupted whatever Scorch had intended to say. “How much of that was Jedi osik?”

Scorch’s protests cut off and you felt the weight of their scrutiny on your face. All you could offer was the truth. “I’m not really sure.”

“I thought you learned to control it,” Scorch said.

“I am, it’s- it’s a long process,” you reminded them both. “It’s hard to know when I’m using the Force, because I’ve spent my whole life thinking it was just part of who I am and how I relate to people.”

The silence was deafening - which was a trick, considering the sheer number of people surrounding you as you walked through the city streets - until it was broken by Scorch. He sounded unusually serious, enough so that you actually looked over at him. “Never use that on us. Just… don’t.”

“I won’t,” you assured him instantly, stung by the insinuation that you would try to make them do something by force rather than conversation or negotiation.

“You might not know, though, right?” Sev pointed out.

“...Right,” you agreed, voice quiet. You hated to admit it, but you refused to lie to them. There was every chance you wouldn’t be able to recognize when you were influencing their will.

When you arrived at the barracks, Boss and Fixer were waiting for you.

The silence that fell between the three of you was tense. When Scorch suggested that you go back to the GAR’s barracks, you didn’t argue.

“About time,” Fixer grumbled. “I knew Six-Two couldn’t read a chronometer, but I thought better of you, Oh-Seven.”

“Shove it, Fixer,” Scorch retorted. “We’re not on a mission. And fifteen extra minutes is nothing in civvie time.”

“C’mon, we have places to be,” Boss ordered, offering only a brief nod to Scorch and Sev. He gestured for you to follow him as he walked away.

You glanced at the others. Sev’s expression was blank while Scorch’s was an amused mask. Fixer started walking in the direction Boss had gone, tilting his head for you to come along.

Gradually, the signage told you that you were approaching the armory. Every door you passed was just like every other, a gray door set in a gray wall. They were double the width of a standard door, leaving no hint about what lay behind or what typically was transported in or out. When you finally stopped, Boss had to enter a code into a control panel set into the wall and scan a spot on his arm before the door would open. From the noise it made while it slid, it was heavier than normal - most likely armored to withstand any attempts to break in. Even then, you entered into a narrow, shallow hallway that led directly to another door with the same control panel and scanner. Boss opened that armored door as well and you entered the room.

When you stepped through, you were taken aback by the sheer size of the armory. Just ahead of you was a waiting area, complete with hard durasteel benches set into the walls for people to sit while they awaited their chance to speak with the clerk. The clerk’s desk was set behind another wall - though this one did not reach the towering ceiling. It was guarded by a transparisteel barrier that looked resistant to blaster fire, though there was a speaker set into it so people could speak to the clerk.

Behind the clerk’s chair, you could see rows of doorways holding different types of weapons. Each entrance was covered by a ray shield. There were shelves in the middle of the space that held the additional necessities - everything from kamas to harnesses that would support heavy weapons for the wearer - and at the back of the room, you could see a practice range. There was more around the edges of the space, you were sure, but it was hidden by the half-wall and the clerk was beckoning you forward.

You took a nervous step toward the human male - definitely not a clone, you noted, but a GAR employee - but Boss approached with more confidence. “I need to outfit a new member of my squad.”

“Okay, that doesn’t help me much,” the clerk told him. “What is your designation? What is your squad’s designation? What is the new trooper’s designation?”

“RC-1138, Delta Squad, and she doesn’t have a designation.”

The clerk blinked at the resolution of Boss’s answers. “She? You have a non-clone addition to a commando squad?”

“Yes, we do,” Fixer said, ushering you forward. “Approved by the Jedi Council. Generals Yoda, Windu, and Unduli in particular.”

The clerk still looked a little stunned, even when he was looking directly at you, so you helpfully supplied your name. He shook his head in resignation. “You’re going to have to wait while I get this cleared.”

“Fine,” Boss agreed, stopping you when you started toward one of the benches in the empty waiting area.

“You’ll probably be more comfortable over there,” the clerk said.

“We’ll just wait here,” Fixer countered, leaning slightly against the counter and watching the clerk steadily.

There was no way to know for certain how quickly the clerk would have moved without being stared at by two no-nonsense commandos and one mildly confused Force-sensitive woman, but he was able to contact someone in moments. After a short conversation with a superior who sounded decidedly grumpy to be asked for clearance, the clerk motioned you over to a door set into the wall that divided the waiting area from the rest of the armory.

When it opened, Boss led the way in and Fixer followed you. The clerk gave all three of you a skeptical look. “The droids will help you from here. I assume you know where everything is?”

“Yes,” Boss said shortly.

“Thank you!” you chirped, unable to fight the urge to be polite.

Boss glanced back at you with a slight lift of his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything as he led the way toward a specific part of the room.

“Don’t thank him,” Fixer told you. He didn’t lower his voice in the slightest and you cringed at the idea of the clerk overhearing him, but the man had gone back to his desk and was now scrolling through a datapad. “He did nothing but slow us down.”

“He let us in the door,” you argued.

“Slowly,” Fixer snorted. “I could have sliced in faster than it took him to open it.”

"When you two are finished," Boss started, his even tone holding an edge of impatience, "I'd like to get this done."

With that said, he turned and tapped a droid that began to power up.

You had gotten more familiar with the variety of droids that helped everyday life run more smoothly in the Republic, but you certainly didn't know all of them. You leaned closer to Fixer. "What kind of droid is it?"

"An RMR, second generation," he told you. "They're pretty rare. The GAR is the only legal user in the galaxy."

As soon as the droid was fully upright, Boss shoved his arm in front of its sensors. "I need armor for my new squad member."

The droid scanned Boss's arm with a flickering reddish light, then trained its sensors on his face. "The records indicate that the new attachment to Delta Squad, led by RC-1138, is a human female. The approval was issued by the Jedi Council. Do you need armor for a Jedi?"

"Yes," Boss decided. As the RMR droid whirred toward one of the shelves, he gave a wordless shrug over one shoulder, offering that by way of an explanation to you and Fixer.

The droid came back, holding a small stack of plates in its metallic arms. Boss accepted them with noticeable disgust. "What is this?"

"Armor for a Jedi," RMR explained. "Most Jedi choose to wear small amounts of armor to facilitate easier movement around the battlefield. The blaster-resistant undertunics are provided by the Jedi Temple, but I could check to see what we have in stock…"

“Absolutely not,” Boss refused. The droid, having already started to move away, turned just in time to catch the plates it had just handed Boss. The sergeant was shaking his head with thinly veiled irritation. “No Jedi of ours is going to walk around unarmored. I want a full set for her, tailored to her specs.”

You tried to keep a straight face, but you were unreasonably warmed by the casual sense of belonging that Boss had offered. You weren’t even a Jedi, really, but Delta Squad had offered you a place in the galaxy where you could fit in. And you would apparently fit in there for a long time, if Boss had anything to say about it.

“Sergeant, a full set of armor is heavy,” RMR objected. “Wearing it may decrease her ability to maneuver around a battlefield. That is the reasoning behind most Jedi wearing sparser armor-”

“And that’s their choice,” Boss agreed. “But I won’t have someone on my squad who would be taken out by ricochet blaster fire. Let us worry about her maneuverability.”

RMR droids clearly had not been designed to sigh, but if it had the ability, you would bet that RMR would have done so. Instead, it settled for a heavy silence before replacing the plates Boss had handed back.

“Boss,” you started quietly, trying to disguise the emotion in your voice. You didn’t know exactly how you were going to thank him for looking out for you, but you needed to tell him. Especially in the wake of Scorch and Sev’s subtle step back after your earlier meal. “I-”

“No complaints,” he told you harshly. The surprise of it kept you from protesting aloud, but he seemed to take your silence for offense, because he gave a small sigh. You watched his shoulders move with it before he angled his head to see you in his peripheral vision. “I know it seems like too much, but-”

“Thank you,” you interrupted.

You could only see Boss’s face in profile, but you watched the eyebrow you could see shoot upward in surprise. Before he could answer, the RMR droid returned. This time, it was carrying a much larger stack of plastoid plates.

The feeling you got at the sight was a surprise to you. Those were yours - or, they would be once they had been sized properly. It would be your way to start repaying the debt you owed these men. Delta Squad had saved your life, and this pile of plastoid would protect that life while you worked to help them.

RMR was apparently not happy with any of you, and it dumped the armor into Boss’s arms. Boss caught most of it, but Fixer had to snag a few pieces out of the air. Then RMR handed you a piece of slinky black material.

“What is this?” you asked, holding it up and puzzling at the shapeless fall of fabric.

There was a beat of uncomfortable silence, broken only by a mutter from Fixer. “Body glove.”

Ah.

The next hour was among the most embarrassing of your life. Republic technology was at least good enough to keep the fabric from becoming sheer as it stretched over certain places, but there were no secrets in the body glove. Every bump and curve and swell of your figure was blatantly visible.

It was bad enough when you confronted yourself in the long, narrow mirror in the changing room, but Boss and Fixer clearly noticed the places where the fabric strained to contain you. It became a game of ignorance, everyone aware of it, but no one saying anything.

Fortunately, the nature of your task meant that you slowly got more covered up as time passed. Pieces of plastoid armor locked into place, each one held firm against you by a system of electromagnets. You had wondered how the armor worked, and you were thrilled to find that the electromagnetism was activated when the plates touched different sections of a flexible wiring worked into your body glove.

You had to swap several pieces of armor, working closely with RMR as you sized up and down to collect a full set that fit your body. By the time you finished, you were sweating. (You had to wipe it away with your palm, since the back of your hand was protected by a gauntlet.)

“Doing okay?” Fixer asked, approaching with the helmet you had been eying almost as long as you had been trying on armor.

“Yeah,” you confirmed with a sheepish look. “This really is heavy. More than I expected.”

Boss nodded. “We’ll do most of your training in it to build your strength. The relief mission we’re about to go on won’t require speed, but wearing it will keep you safe while you get used to it.”

“I can’t say I’m looking forward to it, but I think it’s a good idea.”

As soon as you had agreed, Fixer handed you the helmet. “Last piece.”

You raised the helmet and slid it over your head. The seal at the bottom of the helmet pulled at your scalp, then at the sensitive skin of your face as it lowered further and further before it settled into place. When the helmet seal met the neck of your body glove, the helmet’s HUD flickered to life.

Your breath caught at the way information was augmenting everything you could see. You had assumed that the helmet would limit your sight and hearing, but that wasn’t the case at all. In fact, the only sense that suffered was smell.

The viewport allowed you to see everything around you while the HUD gave you information about everything outside your field of vision, synced to where your eyes traveled. The speakers of the helmet were incredible as well, bringing sounds inside while also allowing your sound of surprise to travel outward.

Fixer grinned and Boss gave a soft chuckle - both of which were presented with perfect clarity by the helmet.

“I remember that first time seeing the galaxy through a helmet,” Fixer said, sounding a little wistful.

“We’ll probably turn down some of the HUD features until you get used to it,” Boss offered. “And then you can sort through it all and choose what you want to keep.”

“Can I keep all of it?” you asked. “It’s incredible!”

“You won’t want to see everything,” Fixer warned you. “Especially not when you’re in combat. You’ll want the necessities - nothing more, nothing less.”

“If all members of your squad are fully armored, I must request that you leave the armory,” RMR informed you all, appearing once more. You weren’t surprised, though. The HUD had warned you of an incoming droid even with RMR approaching from behind you.

“We’ll be on our way in a minute, droid,” Boss told it. He turned to Fixer. “Go check our ship for tomorrow. Make sure everything is loaded and that systems are set for a smooth mission. You know what to look for.”

Fixer nodded and - with a final glance at you - left the armory. Boss held a hand out in your direction. You glanced at it, then at him, but he couldn’t see your confused frown under the cover of protective plastoid.

After a moment, he said, “Give me your helmet. I’ll hold it while you change back into your clothes.”

Ah. At least you hadn’t done anything mortifying, like taking his hand. Even so, your face was hot as you removed the helmet and handed it to him. Your retreat to the changing area may have been a little faster than it would have been otherwise, but that could be for any number of reasons.

When you reappeared, Boss gave you a medium-sized pack. “To carry the armor.”

You nodded and knelt to pack the plates of armor. By far the bulkiest piece was the chestplate, but it wasn’t impossible to carry. The body glove folded down smaller than you could believe, especially now that you knew there was an electromagnetic system hidden in the fabric’s weave.

You stood and slung the pack over your shoulders. It took a moment to adjust your balance, but the weight didn’t seem quite so bad with it supported by your shoulder. Boss handed you the helmet once more. “I’ve already signed everything out, so we’re good to go. Just remember that everything is owned by the GAR. They don’t care if you customize it, but not in any way that purposely damages it.”

“Got it,” you said with a nod. “Anything else I should know?”

“No, but there’s something I should,” Boss countered. “What’s wrong?”

You blinked in surprise, walking behind him as you left the armory. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Nothing is wrong.”

Boss sighed through his nose, a sound filled with more disappointment than irritation. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want a real answer. What is it?”

You took a moment to think it over, but Boss apparently thought you didn’t intend to say anything at all. With a grave look, he said, “I’ll make it an order if I have to.”

With that mild threat hanging over you, telling the truth seemed to be your best option. You told him what had happened at Kiaba’s, and the way Scorch and Sev had reacted to you afterward.

“It makes sense and I understand where they’re coming from,” you hastened to add. “I’m just worried they’re never going to trust me. But I know none of us knew everything before we agreed to have me work for you and I’m not going to be offended if you feel the same way. It’s hard to-”

“I don’t.”

The simple denial made you abruptly cut off your tirade. Despite the trickle of relief running through you, the only question you had was: “Why?”

Boss shrugged. “The Force isn’t much different from getting an order. You feel like you should follow it, but nothing can completely take over your free will. Not unless you’re a complete di’kut.”

“How do you know?” you asked. It seemed stupid to question things when they seemed to be going your way, but you couldn’t help it.

“Someone had us made,” Boss pointed out. “If the Force could make people follow something without question, they wouldn’t need a clone army, they would need a rogue Jedi. Besides, Dooku would do that to make an army for the Seppies. Instead, they’re spending fortunes on their clankers.”

For the life of you, you couldn’t think of an answer to that. When you kept walking beside him in open-mouthed silence, Boss caught your look and shrugged again. “It’s a working theory, but I thought it over before I ever agreed to have you join us.”

“You’re smarter than I could ever dream of being,” you told him, hearing the awe in your own voice.

“Nah, I’m just used to thinking around what the jetii do,” he countered. “Don’t worry about Sev and Scorch. They’ll get over it soon enough. Right now, you need to focus on the mission. We meet in the hangar bay at oh-five-hundred hours. Get some sleep before then.”

---

Author's Note - Uh, oh. A little awkwardness with Scorch and Sev! I'm STILL working my way through the Republic Commando book series, and I feel like troopers (especially Delta) would have trouble with the idea of their scraps of free will being taken away by someone, even if they like and trust that person.

This chapter was supposed to be posted a week ago, but Thanksgiving was crazy and internet access was sparse. Sorry for the delay and thank you for your patience. Thank you for reading!

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